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UNIVERSITY 
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Derwin  Cooper 


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THREADS 
GATHERED  UP 

A  Sequel  to  '^Virgie's  Inheritance" 


By  MRS.  GEORGIE  SHELDON 


AUTHOR  OF 

Max,"  **Lost,  A  Pearle,"  **For  Love  and  Honor," 
'^Helen's  Victory,"     Brownie's  Triumph,"  Etc. 


A.  L.  BURT  COMPANY 
Publishers  New  York 


Popular  Books 

By  MRS.  GEORGIE  SHELDON 
In  Handsome  Cloth  Binding 

Price  per  Volume,      -      -      60  Cents 

Brownie's  Triumph. 
Earl  Wayne*6  Nobility, 

For  Love  and  Honor.    Sequel  to  Geoffrey's  Victory. 

Forsaken  Bride,  The. 

Geoffrey's  Victory. 

Her  Heart's  Victory,    Sequel  to  Max. 

Helen's  Victory. 

Love's  Conquest.    Sequel  to  Helen's  Victory. 

Lost,  A  Pearle. 

Max,  a  Cradle  Mystery. 

Nora,  or  The  Missing  Heir  of  Callonby. 

Sibyl's  Influence. 

Threads  Gathered  Up.    Sequel  to  Virgie's  Inheritance 
Trixy,  or  The  Shadow  of  a  Crime. 
True  Aristocrat,  A. 
Virgie's  Inheritance. 


For  Sale  by  all  Booksellers 
or  will  be  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  of  price 

A.       BURT  COMPANY,  PUBLISHERS 
52  Duane  Street  -       -      -      New  York 


Copyright,  1887.  1888,  1891 
By  Street  &  Smith 

Uader  the  title  of  Virgie's  Inheritance 
THREADS  GATHERED  UP. 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


CHAPTER  I. 

AN  UNEXPECTED  VISITOR. 

Three  years  passed,  and  nothing  occurred  to  disturb 
the  even  tenor  of  Virgie's  life. 

She  had  worked  diligently  during  this  time,  gaining 
fresh  laurels  with  every  season.  She  had  removed  from 
the  retired  lodgings  which  she  had  taken  at  first  upon 
coming  to  San  Francisco,  into  a  better  locality,  where 
she  had  a  handsome  suite  of  rooms  in  a  well-known 
apartment-house. 

These  were  bright  and  pleasant,  tastefully  furnished 
also,  and  Virgie  thoroughly  enjoyed  the  pretty  home 
which  she  had  won  by  the  labor  of  her  own  hands. 

When  she  had  made  the  change  she  gave  the  con- 
tents of  her  other  home  to  Chi  Lu,  who  had  married  a 
thrifty  woman  of  his  own  country,  and  together  they 
were  carrying  on  quite  a  flourishing  laundry  business, 
while,  in  place  of  the  faithful  Chinese,  Virgie  had  taken 
a  bright  and  capable  Swedish  woman. 

One  evening,  after  a  dreary,  rainy  day,  the  bell  under 
the  name  of  ''Alexander,"  in  the  house  of  which  we 
have  been  speaking,  was  pulled  by  a  vigorous  hand. 

Virgie  was  in  her  chamber,  putting  her  little  girl  to 
bed — a  service  which  she  enjoyed,  for  the  child  always 
expected  a  merry  frolic  and  then  some  "pretty  story  be- 
fore the  dustman  came." 

She  heard  the  bell,  and  soon  after  voices  in  the  pretty 

3 


4 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


parlor  leading  from  her  chamber,  and  she  wondered 
who  could  have  chosen  such  a  stormy  night  to  call 
up  her,  for  she  seldom  had  visitors,  even  in  pleasant 
w^eather. 

Presently  Mina,  the  Swede,  came  to  her,  and  said  that 
a  gentleman  was  waiting  to  see  her. 

*'Who  is  he?  Did  he  give  no  name?"  Virgie  ques- 
tioned, surprised. 

"No,  madam.  I  asked  him,  and  he  said  there  was  no 
need  to  take  his  name,  for  you  would  know  him  when 
you  saw  him." 

Virgie's  heart  beat  more  quickly  at  this,  and  a  feeling 
of  dread  took  possession  of  her. 

Mr.  Knight  came  to  see  her  occasionally,  and  one  or 
tw@  of  his  clerks  had  been  there  a  few  times  on  business, 
but  Mina  knew  them,  so  she  was  sure  it  was  none  of  these, 
but  someone  who  must  have  known  her  in  the  past. 

She  finished  the  story  she  was  telling  little  Virgie, 
made  some  trifling  changes  changes  in  her  toilet,  and 
then  went  into  the  pa-rlor. 

A  gentleman  was  seated  by  the  table,  with  his  back 
toward  her,  and  though  he  had  on  a  heavy  overcoat, 
and  his  form  was  considerably  bowed,  and  his  hair  very 
gray,  there  was  something  familiar  about  him  that  sent 
a  sudden  shock  through  Virgie's  frame. 

As  she  went  forward  to  greet  him  he  suddenly  arose 
and  turned  toward  her,  bending  a  pair  of  piercing  black 
eyes  searchingly  upon  her  face. 

Virgie  stopped  short  as  she  met  that  glance,  all  the 
color  leaving  her  face,  while  a  startled  cry  escaped  her 
lips. 

The  man  flushed,  and  his  eyes  sank  guiltily  before  hers 
as  he  said,  in  a  low  tone : 

"You  know  me,  then,  Virgie  ?" 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


5^ 


"Uncle  Mark!"  she  gasped,  and  then  sank  weakly  into 
a  chain 

"Yes,  I  am  your  Uncle  Mark/'  the  man  returned,  a 
touch  of  bitterness  in  his  tone;  "but  I  scarcely  expected 
that  you  would  acknowledge  me  as  such.  Where  is  your 
father?'^ 

"Dead." 

Mark  Alexander  staggered  as  if  some  one  had  struck 
him  a  sudden  blow. 

"When  did  he — die?"  he  asked,  with  whitening  lips. 
"Six  years  ago  last  November." 

The  man  sank  back  into  his  chair,  and  bowed  his  head 
upon  the  table,  with  a  groan. 

Profound  silence  reigned  in  the  room  for  several 
minutes,  while  each  occupant  was  tortured  by  bitter 
thoughts. 

Virgie  could  scarcely  realize  that  at  last  the  man  who 
had  wrought  her  father's  ruin  was  sitting  in  her  pres- 
ence. She  had  never  seen  him  but  once  since  that  dread- 
ful time  when  the  thunderbolt  had  fallen  to  crush  them 
all,  and  that  had  been  when  she  had  fled  from  him  in 
the  street  more  than  three  years  previous.  She  won- 
■dered  how  he  had  found  her  now.  She  had  hoped 
she  should  never  meet  him  again ;  she  feared  him ;  she 
abhorred  him  for  the  crime  and  wrong  he  had  com- 
mitted. 

Her  heart  was  even  now  filled  with  great  bitterness 
toward  him,  for,  but  for  him  her  dear  father  might  have 
been  living,  an  honored  and  respected  citizen  of  San 
Francisco,  arid  she  could  only  remember  how  he  had 
suffered,  how,  believing  his  name  forever  dishonored, 
he  had  fled,  as  it  were,  into  the  wilderness,  there  to  drag 
out  a  weary  existence  among  strangers. 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


A  heavy  sigh  at  length  aroused  her  from  these  un- 
happy musings,  and  she  glanced  at  her  companion. 

She  could  see  that  he,  too,  was  sadly  changed. 

Evidently  the  last  twelve  years  had  been  far  from 
happy  ones  with  him.  His  bowed  form,  his  haggard 
face  and  gray  hair,  all  told  of  a  mind  ill  at  ease,  of  a 
heart  tortured  by  fear,  if  not  with  remorse. 

Apparently,  too,  he  had  been  very  ill;  he  might  even 
be  so  still,  for  he  was  fearfully  emaciated,  his  face  was 
hueless,  and  he  was  trembling  with  either  weakness, 
cold,  or  emotion,  perhaps  all  three  combined. 

His  coat  was  drenched  in  the  heavy  rain  in  which  he 
had  come,  and  he  looked  so  utterly  wretched  and  forlorn, 
that  something  of  pity  began  to  crowd  the  anger  from 
her  heart. 

'^Uncle  Mark,"  she  said,  trying  +^0  steady  her  trem- 
bling voice,  "you  have  taken  me  so  by  surprise  that  I  am 
forgetful  of  my  duty.  Remove  your  wet  coat,  and  come 
nearer  the  fire,  while  I  ring  for  a  cup  of  tea  and  some 
supper  for  you." 

"Ah!  then  you  will  not  turn  me  out  again  into  the 
storm.  Still  you  cannot  have  much  but  hatred  for  me  in 
your  heart,"  he  returned,  lifting  to  her  a  face  that  was 
almost  convulsed. 

"I  trust  that  nothing  would  make  me  unmindful  of 
the  duties  of  hospitality,  especially  toward  one  who  is 
ill  and  suffering  as  you  appear  to  be,"  Virgie  answered, 
as  she  arose  and  went  out  to  confer  a  moment  with  Mina 
regarding  the  comfort  of  her  unbidden  guest. 

"Where  is  Aunt  Margaret?"  she  inquired,  when  she 
returned,  a  few  moments  later. 

"Dead." 

"Ah!  and  Philip?" 


THREADS  GATHEEED  UP 


'■'Dead — and  little  Bertha,  too.  All  are  gone — victims 
of  cholera,  while  I  have  not  known  a  well  day  since  I 
had  it,'-'  the  man  answered,  in  a  harsh,  unnatural  voice. 

Virgie  felt  the  tears  rise  to  her  eyes,  and  her  heart 
softened  still  more.  Surely  his  punishment  had  begun, 
and  in  no  light  manner,  if  death  had  so  quickly  robbed 
him  of  all  his  family,  ruining  his  own  health  also. 

"How  did  you  know  that  I  was  here  in  San  Fran- 
cisco?'' she  asked,  after  another  painful  pause. 

He  started  at  her  question. 

"I  saw  you  here  more  than  three  years  ago,  I  was 
not  quite  sure  it  was  you  the  first  time  I  met  you.  and 
I  followed  you.  hoping  to  learn  where  you  lived:  but 
you  evaded  me  without  knowing  it,  that  time.  The 
next  day  I  haunted  the  place  where  I  lost  sight  of  you, 
and  came  upon  you  ^"ust  as  you  turned  the  corner,  you 
remember.  You  knew  me.  I  was  very  sure,  by  the  look 
of  dismay  that  sprang  to  your  eyes,  I  was  more  sure 
after  your  little  strategy  in  that  store.  But  I  wanted 
to  see  you  desperately,  Virgie.  Didn't  you  see  my  ad- 
vertisement among  the  personals 

''Yes ;  but  I — could  not  m;eet  you.  I — could  not  for- 
get.'"'' faltered  A'irgie. 

The  man  shivered  at  her  words. 

'"'Well.  I  cannot  blame  you.  But  never  mJnd  that  now. 
I  meant  to  find  you  if  I  could :  but  I  made  up  my  mind 
after  a  while  that  you  and  Abbot  had  left  San  Francisco — 
I  had  not  a  thought  that  he  was  dead — and  so  I  went 
elsewhere  to  hunt  for  you.  I  have  spent  the  last  three 
years  in  wandering  about,  but  finally  came  back  here  to 
end  m.y  days.  I  was  in  at  Knight's  bookstore-  a  day 
or  two  since.  There  was  a  pile  of  new  books  on  the 
counter,  and  as  I  stood  looking  at  one  of  them  a  gentle- 


s 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


man  canue  for  one,  and  said  to  a  boy,  'I  want  you  to 
take  one  of  Mrs.  Alexander's  new  books  around  to  her/ 
The  name  startled  me.  I  turned  to  the  title  page,  and 
saw  'Virginia  Alexander'  printed  there,  as  the  author. 
I  bought  a  copy,  and  followed  the  boy  here.  I  should 
have  come  to  see  you  yesterday,  but  I  was  not  able  to 
get  out;  I  had  hardly  strength  sufficient  to-day,  but 
to-night  despair  drove  me  out  in  spite  of  the  storm." 

"I  am  afraid  you  were  imprudent.  But  what  can  I 
do  for  you,  Uncle  Mark?"  Virgie  asked,  hardly  knowing 
what  to  say  to  the  returned  fugitive. 

ivill  tell  you  that  by  and  by.   Can  I — will  you  let  me 
stay  here  to-nTghl     he  humbly  asked. 

Virgie  had  but  two  beds,  her  own  and  her  servant's, 
but  she  had  not  the  heart  to  send  him  forth  again  into 
the  storm,  he  looked  so  ill  and  miserable;  so  she  replied, 
with  a  look  of  pity : 

"Yes,  if  you  wish." 

The  poor  creature  broke  down  and  sobbed  at  her  kind- 
ness, but  he  recovered  himself  after  a  moment,  ana 
turned  away  from  her  gaze. 

*'It  is  my  nerves,"  he  explained ;  ''I  am  a  total  wreck ; 
I  am  utterly  shattered." 

Mina  now  came  in  with  a  tempting  little  supper,  and 
he  was  more  composed  and  cheerful  after  he  had  eaten 
something  and  taken  a  cup  of  tea,  and  soon  began  to 
talk  more  freely  of  his  past. 

He  had  been  in  the  East  Indies,  he  told  Virgie,  en- 
gaged in  the  spice  trade,  most  of  the  time  since  his  flight 
from  San  Francisco.  But  he  had  never  known  a  mo- 
ment of  peace  since  the  day  that  he  had  fled  with  all 
the  available  funds  of  the  bank,  of  which  he  had  been 
the  cashier,  and  his  brother  the  president,  for  he  had 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


9 


known  well  enough  that  the  good  name  of  the  latter 
would  have  to  suffer  as  well  as  his  own. 

''At  first,"  he  said,  '"'I  tried  traveling,  throwing  my- 
self into  every  excitement,  and  took  my  family  with  me. 
But  it  would  not  do:  the  fortune  which  I  had  stolen 
and  was  trying  to  enjoy,  was  like  a  mill-stone  about 
my  neck;  the  word  ''thief  was  branded  upon  my  heart 
with  every  beat  of  my  pulse,  until,  in  despair,  I  at  last 
located  at  Batavia,  on  the  island  of  Java,  and  threw 
myself,  heart  and  brain,  into  business.  I  invested  the 
most  of  my  ill-gotten  gains  where  they  would  be  safe, 
and  began  to  speculate  with  the  rest.  The  Bible  says 
that  'the  wicked  shall  not  prosper  ;'  but  I  did — if  you 
call  it  prospering  to  have  money  literally  pouring  in 
upon  you  and  be  nearly  distracted  with  an  accusing 
conscience  at  the  same  time.  The  richer  I  grew  the 
more  wretched  I  became.  I  had  heard  that  your  father 
had  sacrificed  all  that  he  was  worth  toward  wiping  out 
my  iniquity ;  but  of  course  I  knew  that  it  could  not 
begin  to  make  my  defalcation  good,  and  that  people 
w^ould  only  scoff  and  sneer,  and  say  it  was  all  pretense — 
doubtless  we  v>-ere  in  league  and  would  share  equally 
in  the  spoils.  I  knew  his  high  sense  of  honor,  and  how 
sensitive  he  was,  and  I  believed  the  blow  would  crush 
him." 

"It  did !  it  did !"  cried  Virgie,  bursting  into  a  passion 
of  tears,  as  all  the  sad  past  came  pressing  upon  her  with 
this  recital. 

'Toor  child!  poor  child!"  returned  her  uncle,  tremu- 
lously. "But  you  and  your  father  were  in  a  state  of 
bliss  compared  with  me.  Then  there  came  that  terrible 
epidemic  sweeping  all  whom  I  loved  in  three  days  from 
the  face  of  the  earth,  and  bringing  me,  also,  very  near 


10 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


to  death's  door.  When  it  was  all  over,  and  I  knew 
that  I  was  to  live,  I  felt  that  there  remained  but  one 
thing  for  me  to  do — to  come  back  here  and  make  an 
open  confession  of  everything,  and  atone,  as  far  as 
I  was  able,  for  the  mischief  I  had  wrought.  If  I  could 
have  found  Abbot  I  should  have  done  this  long  ago.  Oh, 
my  brother,  I  wish  you  had  not  died !" 

Again  he  broke  down,  and  Virgie  felt  herself  fast 
melting  toward  him. 

She  could  not  but  feel  that  his  repentance  had  come 
far  too  late,  but  he  was  much  too  wretched  not  to  appeal 
to  her  sympathies. 

They  talked  for  several  hours,  she  telling  him  all  that 
had  occurred  since  his  flight,  though  she  touched  but 
lightly  upon  her  individual  sorrows. 

But  he  appeared  so  exhausted  that  she  finally  per- 
suaded him  to  retire,  giving  up  her  own  room  to  him, 
she  and  little  Virgie  occupying  Mina's,  while  the  girl 
slept  upon  a  lounge  in  their  small  dining-room. 

When  morning  came  Mr.  Alexander  was  too  ill  to 
rise,  and  feared  that  he  was  going  to  have  a  relapse  of 
his  former  illness. 

He  grew  better,  however,  toward  evening,  and  seemed 
to  be  so  grateful  for  the  care  which  his  niece  had  given 
him,  so  repentant  for  the  sorrow  that  he  had  brought 
upon  her,  that  she  was  deeply  touched. 

After  a  few  days  he  appeared  much  stronger,  and 
seemed  greatly  interested  in  Virgie,  her  work,  and  par- 
ticularly in  her  little  one.  Still,  he  did  not  seem  to  be 
quite  at  his  ease. 

"I  did  not  mean  to  be  such  a  burden  upon  you,  Virgie," 
he  said,  humbly,  one  afternoon,  as  she  was  performing 
some  little  service  for  him. 


THKEADS  GATHEKED  UP  II 

"I  do  not  consider  you  a  burden.  I  am  glad  if  I  can 
make  you  comfortable,  Uncle  Mark,"  she  returned, 
kindly. 

''You  shall  not  be  a  loser  for  your  kindness  to  me,'* 
he  added,  smiling. 

Virgie  turned  upon  him  sharply,  her  face  flushing 
crimson,  her  eyes  blazing. 

"Uncle  Mark,"  she  retorted,  in  a  clear,  decided  voice, 
"whatever  I  have  done  for  you  has  been  done  from  sym- 
pathy, and  because  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  minister  to  your 
needs;  but  I  shall  never  receive  any  compensation  from 
you — I  could  not.  If  you  are  as  rich  as  you  have  hinted 
several  times,  I  want  you  to  right  the  wrong  that  you 
committed  so  long  ago.  There  is  much  that  still  re- 
mains unpaid,  even  though  the  bank  has  long  since 
resumed  business.  Many  depositors  lost  heavily;  there 
were  several  years  that  no  interest  was  paid  to  them, 
and  their  funds  were  so  locked  up  that  they  could  not 
have  what  rightfully  belonged  to  them,  and  much  suf- 
fering was  occasioned  by  it.  All  this — everything  must 
be  paid  to  the  uttermost  farthing." 

"It  shall  be  done.  I  will  do  all  that  can  be  required 
of  me.  But,  Virgie,  you  have  been  the  heaviest  loser 
of  all  through  what  your  father  paid  out  for  me,  and 
that  w^ill  be  one  of  the  debts  to  be  canceled  with  the 
rest.  Don't  let  your  pride  prevent  my  relieving  my 
conscience  of  that  obligation,"  said  the  sick  man,  tremu- 
lously. 

Virgie  had  not  thought  of  the  matter  in  that  light  be- 
fore. Her  chief  desire  had  been  to  have  a  confession, 
and  restitution  made  to  the  bank  and  all  depositors, 
and  thus  clear  her  father  from  all  imputation  of  wrong- 
doing.  She  had  never  reckoned  herself  among  the  num- 


12 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


ber  of  the  injured — never  counted  upon  receiving  a  dollar 
in  return  for  the  sacrifice  her  father  had  made.  To 
have  his  honor  re-established,  and  then  be  able  to  bring 
his  body  back  to  rest  beside  her  mother,  would  give  her 
more  joy  than  she  ever  expected  to  know  again  in  this 
world. 

"Papa's  good  name  is  more  to  me  than  ail  else,"  she 
said,  tearfully. 

"Dear  child,  it  shall  be  fully  restored;  his  honor  vin- 
dicated. Oh,  that  he  could  have  lived  to  know  it! 
That  it  could  not  is  the  hardest  part  of  my  punish- 
ment. But  after  I  have  done  that,  you  will  not  refuse 
to  receive  what  I  can  offer  you?"  pleaded  Mark  Alex- 
ander, earnestly. 

"Can  you  satisfy  all  claims  upon  the  bank?"  Virgie 
asked,  in  surprise,  for  she  knew  that  the  interest  of 
all  those  years  would  amount  to  a  great  deal. 

"I  can  do  far  more  than  that,  and  to-morrow  I  will 
make  a  beginning,  if  I  have  the  strength.  What  I 
do  must  be  done  quickly,  for  my  days  are  numbered." 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP. 


13 


CHAPTER  IL 

VIRGIE  RECEIVES  A  MYSTERIOUS  PACKAGE. 

Virgie,  remembering  her  promise  to  Mr.  Knight,  to 
let  him  know  if  she  ever  met  her  uncle  in  San  Fran- 
cisco again,  determined  to  consult  with  him  regard- 
ing Mark  Alexander's  intentions. 

She  knew  that  he  would  advise  her  rightly,  and 
relieve  her  from  all  anxiety  in  the  matter.  She  feared 
that  her  uncle  might  be  arrested  and  tried  for  the 
crime  that  he  had  committed,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
he  was  willing  and  eager  to  make  full  restitution,  and 
he  was  far  too  ill  a  man  for  any  such  excitement. 

But  she  did  not  have  to  fear  this  long,  for  he  was 
suddenly  attacked  with  very  alarming  symptoms  and 
his  physician  told  him  plainly  that  he  would  never 
leave  his  chamber  again. 

"It  is  far  better  so,"  he  said  to  Virgie,  when  he  told 
her  of  the  verdict,  "for  nothing  can  occur  now  to 
cause  you  any  annoyance.  I  shall  be  glad  to  have 
'life's  fitful  fever  over/  and  can  die  content  if  you 
will  assure  me  that  you  forgive  me  for  all  the  unhap- 
piness  I  have  caused  you." 

"Yes,  I  do,  Uncle  Mark,"  she  answered. 

And  she  was  sincere.  She  could  freely  forgive  him 
for  all  she  had  suffered  through  his  wrong-doing,  but 
she  could  not  quite  forgive  him  for  the  shame  and 
sorrow  her  father  had  endured  on  his  account. 

To  be  sure  the  truth  would  all  come  out  now,  res- 


14  THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 

titution  would  be  made,  and  the  world  would  know 
that  Mark  Alexander  alone  had  been  guilty  of  the 
crime  imputed  to  his  brother  as  well;  but  her  father 
was  not  there  to  experience  the  benefit  of  tardy  jus- 
tice, and,  though  grateful,  she  was  only  partially  con- 
tent. 

She  sent  for  Mr.  Knight  and  confided  the  whole  mat- 
ter to  him.  He  told  her  to  leave  it  all  with  him,  and 
he  would  see  that  full  justice  was  done. 

After  a  conference  with  the  invalid  a  lawyer  was 
sent  for,  a  full  confession  of  the  crime  was  written 
out  and  signed  in  the  presence  of  the  required  num- 
ber of  witnesses,  after  which  he  made  his  will,  making 
Mr.  Knight  his  executor,  and  bequeathing  all  that  was 
necessary  of  his  fortune  to  liquidate  his  indebted- 
ness to  the  bank  he  had  wronged,  the  remainder  to 
go  to  his  niece,  Virginia  Alexander,  and  her  heirs  for- 
ever. 

After  this  important  business  was  finished,  the  law- 
yer and  witnesses  gone,  Mr.  Alexander  requested  Vir- 
gie  to  bring  him  a  package  of  papers  she  would  find 
in  the  lower  part  of  his  trunk. 

She  complied,  and  then  he  asked  her  if  she  would 
assist  him  in  looking  them  over,  as  he  wished  to  de- 
stroy those  that  were  of  no  value  and  leave  some 
directions  regarding  the  others. 

There  were  a  great  many  of  them,  and  they  were  of  ■ 
various  descriptions,  therefore  their  examination  re- 
quired some  time.  But  at  last  everything  seemed  to 
be  arranged  satisfactorily — all  but  one  sealed  pack- 
age, which  the  invalid  had  laid  aside  from  all  the 
others. 

This  he  now  took  up,  remarking,  as  he  viewed  it 
thoughtfully : 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UE 


15 


"There  is  quite  a  romantic  history  connected  with 
this,  and  it  came  into  my  hands  in  a  remarkable  way. 
I  am  going  to  tell  you  the  story,  and  then  give  the 
package  to  you  to  keep  for  the  owner,  if  you  should 
ever  be  fortunate  enough  to  find  her." 

"Ah!  It  is  something  that  some  one  has  lost?" 
Virgie  remarked,  looking  interested. 

"Yes.  I  stopped  in  London  for  a  few  days  on  my 
way  home  from  the  East,  But  on  the  last  day  of 
my  stay  I  gave  up  my  room  at  the  hotel  several  hours 
before  I  left,  and  went  into  the  gentlemen's  reception- 
room  to  read  my  paper.  I  was  far  from  well,  and  the 
noise  and  smoke  there  annoyed  me  exceedingly,  so  I 
stole  into  a  small  parlor  devoted  to  ladies'  use,  and 
seating  myself  behind  some  draperies  in  a  bay-window, 
gave  myself  up  to  the  enjoyment  of  solitude  and  the 
news  of  the  day.  I  must,  however,  have  soon  fallen 
asleep,  for  I  was  not  conscious  that  any  one  had  en- 
tered the  room  until  I  heard  the  voices  of  two  ladies 
almost  beside  me.  How  long  they  had  been  there 
I  do  not  know,  and  my  first  impulse  was  to  make  my 
presence  known  and  then  leave  the  room.  But  this 
seemed  an  awkward  thing  to  do,  particularly  as  they 
might  have  been  talking  some  time  before  I  awoke, 
and  they  might  consider  me  very  ill-bred  for  having 
remained  a  listener  to  what  had  already  been  said- 
Then,  I  thought,  I  was  an  utter  stranger  to  them;  I 
was  about  leaving  for  another  country,  and  whatever 
the  nature  of  their  conversation,  it  could  make  no  dif- 
ference to  either  them  or  me,  if  I  did  overhear  it.  It 
proved  to  be  very  harmless,  however,  until  just  as 
they  were  about  to  separate,  one  lady  remarked  to 
the  other: 

"  'By  the  way,  as  we  are  going  to  the  Continent  for 


16 


THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


a  while,  I  want  to  ask  you  to  take  charge  of  a  pack- 
age for  me.  It  would  be  valuable  to  no  one  excepting 
myself,  and  yet  if  it  should  chance  to  fall  into  other 
hands  during  my  absence,  it  might  occasion  me  a  great 
deal  of  trouble.  I  know  it  will  be  safe  with  you,  and 
if  anything  should  happen  to  me  while  I  am  away, 
I  want  you  to  burn  it.' 

"  *Very  well,  I  will  do  as  you  wish,'  returned  her 
companion,  as  she  appeared  to  receive  something  that 
the  other  handed  to  her. 

*'They  conversed  a  few  moments  longer,  and  then 
arose  and  left  the  room.  I  judged  that  they  had  met 
there  at  the  request  of  the  lady  who  was  going  abroad, 
simply  to  take  leave  of  each  other,  and  I  thought  no 
more  of  the  affair  until  I  took  my  seat  in  the  evening 
train  for  Edinburgh,  whence  I  was  to  go  to  Glasgow 
to  await  the  sailing  of  a  steamer  for  home.  A  lady 
entered  just  after  I  was  seated,  and  while  giving  some 
directions  to  the  porter  who  brought  in  her 
luggage,  her  voice  struck  me  as  familiar.  Still  I 
could  not  place  her — indeed  I  was  very  sure  I  had 
never  seen  her  before,  and  being  exceedingly  wary  I 
settled  myself  in  a  corner  and  was  soon  fast  asleep. 
When  I  awoke  it  was  very  dark  outside,  though  the 
coach  lamps  burned  dimly  above  me,  and  I  found  my- 
self alone  in  the  compartment;  my  companion,  who- 
ever she  might  have  been,  had  left  the  train. 

"Judging  from  the  cramped  condition  I  was  in,  I 
must  have  slept  a  long  time  and  very  soundly.  I  arose 
to  stretch  myself  and  change  my  position,  when  my 
foot  struck  some  object  on  the  floor.  I  stooped  and 
picked  up  the  package.  Taking  it  nearer  to  the  light 
I  found  that  its  seal  was  stamped  simply  with  a  coat 
<of  arms,  while  there  was  written  on  the  back  of  the 


THKEADS  GATHERED  UE 


n 


wrapper,  'To  be  destroyed,  unopened,  in  the  event  of 
my  death.' 

"Instantly  it  flashed  upon  me  that  the  lady  of  the 
familiar  voice,  who  had  been  my  companion,  was  one 
of  the  women  who  had  been  in  the  ladies'  parlor  at 
the  hotel  that  afternoon,  and  that  this  was  the  very 
package  intrusted  to  her  care  by  her  friend.  Of 
course  I  would  not  presume  to  open  the  package  to 
ascertain  to  whom  it  belonged,  and  I  had  not  the 
faintest  idea  what  to  do  with  it,  for  no  names  had  been 
called  during  that  interview  to  enlighten  me  as  to  the 
identity  of  the  ladies. 

''When  the  train  stopped  again  I  asked  the  guard 
at  what  station  my  companion  had  left.  He  did  not 
know;  he  said  the  guards  had  been  changed  at  Shef- 
field, and  the  lady  must  have  got  out  before  that,  as 
I  was  alone  in  the  compartment  when  he  came  on. 
I  was  both  puzzled  and  annoyed.  I  did  not  like  to  in- 
trust the  package  to  any  one  connected  with  the 
train,  for  I  judged  from  Avhat  the  lady  had  said  that  it 
contained  something  of  great  importance — at  least  to 
her.  I  did  not  doubt  that  inquiries  would  be  made 
for  it,  for  doubtless  the  woman  who  had  lost  it  would 
be  in  great  anxiety  about  it.  My  time  was  not  valu- 
able, and  I  began  to  be  considerably  interested  in  my 
discovery,  so  I  resolved  to  return  to  London,  and  wait 
to  see  if  any  inquiries  were  made  regarding  the  lost 
package.  Accordingly  I  took  the  next  train  back,  and 
the  following  morning,  I  myself  inserted  a  notice 
in  some  of  the  papers,  describing  what  I  had  found 
and  stating  where  it  could  be  obtained.  I  remained 
in  the  city  a  fortnight,  but  no  one  ever  came  to  claim 
the  package,  and  though  I  closely  examined  the  news- 
papers, no  inquiry  for  it  ever  appeared.    I  felt  that  I 


18  THKEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


had  done  my  whole  duty  in  the  matter,  so  I  again 
started  for  home,  bringing  my  mysterious  possession 
with  me. 

"It  is  just  as  I  found  it.  I  confess  I  have  often  felt 
2L  curiosity  regarding  its  contents,  but  I  have  re- 
spected the  owner's  evident  desire  that  it  should  re- 
main a  sealed  matter  to  every  one  save  herself.  I  am 
going  to  give  it  to  you  now,  Virgie.  Of  course,  I 
know  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  you  will  ever  meet 
the  owner,  but  I  do  not  like  to  destroy  it,  fearing 
there  may  be  something  of  importance  contained  in 
it.  Here  it  is,  just  as  I  found  it,  and  if  you  should 
ever  happen  to  hear  any  one  mention  having  lost  a 
sealed  package  on  the  Edinburgh  train,  this  may  prove 
to  be  the  one.  It  can  easily  be  identified  by  the  crest 
upon  the  seal." 

Virgie  took  the  mysterious  thing  and  examined  it 
with  some  curiosity. 

It  was  of  an  oblong  shape,  nicely  wrapped  in  thick 
white  paper,  sealed  with  red  wax,  upon  which  had 
been  stamped  a  coat  of  arms. 

"What  a  queer  looking  device,"  Virgie  said.  "A 
shield  bearing  a  cross  that  is  doubled  crossed." 

"Yet,  it  is  what  is  called  a  patriarchal  cross.  I  was 
curious  about  the  crest,  so  I  studied  up  a  little  on  the 
subject  of  heraldry;  and  the  motto  is  certainly  an  ex- 
cellent one,  'Droit  et  Loyal'  meaning  'Upright  and 
Loyal,' "  returned  the  sick  man,  with  a  sigh,  as  if 
the  words  were  a  stab  at  him. 

Virgie  turned  the  package  over,  and  found  written 
there,  in  an  evidently  disguised  hand,  the  sentence, 
"To  be  destroyed  unopened  in  the  event  of  my  death." 

"I  feel  almost  as  if  I  hold  the  fate  of  someone  in  my; 
hands,"  she  said,  a  slight  shiver  disturbing  her. 


THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


19 


She  was  not  naturally  superstitious,  but  she  experi- 
enced a  very  uncomfortable  sensation  in  the  posses- 
sion of  the  mystic  thing,  and  years  after  the  words 
that  she  had  just  uttered  returned  to  her  mind 
with  peculiar  force;  she  did  indeed  hold  the  fate  of  a 
human  being  in  her  hands. 

''If  you  do  not  like  to  keep  it,  if  the  knowledge  of 
its  possession  becomes  irksome  or  burdensome,  then 
destroy  it,"  her  uncle  said,  as  he  noticed  that  she  was 
strangely  aflected. 

''I  will  keep  it  for  the  present,"  she  answered. 
''There  is  no  probability,  however,  that  the  owner  and 
I  will  ever  meet." 

"I  do  not  know;  stranger  things  than  that  have 
happened,  our  lives  cross  those  of  others  in  a  marvel- 
ous w^ay  sometimes,"  returned  Mr.  Alexander,  dream- 
ily. ''I  believe,"  he  added,  arousing  himself  after  a 
few  moments,  ''that  some  power  stronger  than  my- 
self has  influenced  me  to  preserve  that  package,  and 
to  confide  it  now  to  you.  I  am  impressed  that  it  may 
even  prove  useful  to  you.  Let  me  advise  you  to  take 
good  care  of  it,  Virgie,  keep  it,  say  for  twenty  years, 
if  you  should  live  so  long,  and  then,  if  nothing  has 
come  of  it,  do  what  you  like  with  it ;  by  that  time  it  is 
doubtful  if  it  could  do  the  owner  either  harm  or 
good." 

"Very  well,  I  will  do  as  you  suggest,  Uncle  Mark," 
Virgie  answered,  and  saying  this,  she  arose  and  locked 
it  in  a  small  drawer  in  her  writing-desk. 

Mark  Alexander  failed  very  rapidly  after  that.  Dis- 
ease and  remorse  had  done  their  work  pretty  ef¥ect- 
ually,  and  in  less  than  three  weeks  from  that  stormy 
evening  when  he  had  come  to  Virgie  he  was  laid  to 
his  last,  long  rest  in  Lone  Mountain  Cemetery. 


20  THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 

After  this  Mr.  Knight  lost  no  time  in  carrying  out 
the  instructions  he  had  received,  and  instituted  meas- 
ures for  making  ample  restitution  for  the  crime  that 
had  been  committed  nearly  twelve  years  previous. 

The  bank  from  which  Mark  Alexander  had  stolen 
so  largely  had  been  nearly  ruined.  All  payments  had 
been  suspended  for  years,  and  the  most  strenuous 
exertions  were  made  to  turn  to  the  best  advantage 
the  comparatively  small  assets  left,  and  thus  prevent 
a  total  loss  to  the  depositors  and  stockholders.  It  had 
been  but  a  litle  while  since  it  had  been  able  to  resume 
business  upon  its  former  basis,  and  it  will  be  readily 
understood  that  the  accession  of  nearly  half  a  million 
dollars — the  sum  returned  to  them  by  the  former 
criminal — was  most  joyfully  received  by  the  directors. 

A  statement  of  the  fact  was  published,  together 
with  an  announcement  that  all  depositors  who  had 
suffered  from  the  defalcation  would  receive  remuner- 
ation for  all  loss  and  annoyance  in  the  past. 

Abbot  Alexander,  the  former  president,  was  exon- 
erated from  all  blame.  Every  taint,  every  doubt  and 
suspicion  were  removed  from  his  name,  and  justice 
was  at  last  rendered  to  an  honest  man.  A  glowing 
tribute  was  paid  to  his  nobility  of  character,  to  his  rare 
talents  as  a  business  man,  and  to  the  spirit  of  self-sacri- 
fice he  had  manifested  at  the  time  of  the  trouble,  in 
giving  up  all  his  own  wealth. 

It  was  a  day  long  to  be  remembered  by  Virgie, 
when  all  this  was  proclaimed  to  the  world.  The  papers 
were  full  of  it,  and  seemed  to  vie  with  each  other  in 
trying  to  atone  for  the  wrong  which  Abbot  Alexander 
had  so  patiently  suffered,  which  had  broken  the  heart 
of  his  gentle  wife  and  driven  his  wife  and  his  beautiful 


THEE ADS  GATHEKEB  UP 


21 


'daughter  into  exile.    It  was  tardy  justice,  but  it  was 
ample  and  complete. 

But  little  was  said  of  Mark  Alexander  and  his  won- 
derful prosperity  since  his  defalcation,  but  that  little,, 
while  it  did  not  conceal  or  condone  the  crime  that  he 
had  committed,  commended  most  highly  that  last  act 
of  his  life. 

It  was  also  hinted  in  these  same  papers,  that  the 
talented  author  of  "Gleanings  from  the  Heights,"  and 
several  other  charming  productions  of  the  same  char- 
acter, was  the  daughter  of  the  lamented  bank  presi- 
dent who  had  been  so  cruelly  maligned. 

"Oh,  if  my  father  could  have  but  known  of  this 
Virgie  exclaimed,  when  talking  the  matter  over,  after- 
ward, with  Mr.  Knight. 

"You  may  be  very  sure  that  he  does  know  it,"  he 
responded,  gravely.  "It  is  to  be  regretted  that  he 
could  not  have  known  it  before  his  death;  it  would 
have  helped  to  soothe  his  last  days.  But  still,  if  any- 
thing can  add  to  his  joy  in  another  world,  the  fact 
that  his  name  is  to-day  held  up  as  one  of  the  most 
honored  in  San  Francisco,  must  contribute  to  it,  as 
also  must  the  knowledge  that  his  daughter  will  hence- 
forth be  relieved  from  all  pecuniary  care  or  anxiety. 
You  are  really  quite  a  wealthy  young  woman,  my 
friend,"  the  publisher  concluded,  smiling. 

"Am  I?"  Virgie  questioned,  absently. 

She  was  thinking  of  those  weary  years  among  the 
mountains  when,  day  after  day,  her  father  came  and 
went,  to  and  from  the  mine,  like  a  common  laborer, 
toiling  persistently  and  patiently,  so  that  she  might 
have  a  competence  when  he  could  care  for  her  no 
longer.  "And  all  for  naught !"  she  mused,  with  a  bitter 
pang,  "for  had  not  that  also  fallen  into  the  hands  of 


22  THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


an  adventurer?'*  It  seemed  to  have  been  his  fate  to 
accumulate  for  others  to  spend. 

"How  indifferent  you  are!  Have  you  no  curiosity 
about  the  matter?"  questioned  Mr.  Knight,  archly. 

"Yes,  of  course  I  have,"  Virgie  answered,  rousing 
herself  from  her  reverie.  "Is  the  amount  that  remains 
to  me  finally  determined?" 

"Yes;  there  will  be  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  thou- 
sand dollars — not  much  more  than  half  what  your 
father  sacrificed  for  his  brother,  but  sufficient  ta> 
make  you  quite  independent." 

"So  much !"  exclaimed  Virgie,  in  surprise. 

"It  is  quite  a  snug  little  fortune,  and  I  am  glad  for 
you.  There  will  be  no  longer  any  need  for  your  work- 
ing as  you  have  done,  and  I  am  afraid  I  must  lose 
my  matchless  designer." 

"Indeed  you  will  not,"  Virgie  cried  eagerly;  "that 
is,  if  you  will  allow  me  to  continue  my  work.  I  have 
become  so  accustomed  to  regular  employment — I  love 
my  work  so  well,  that  I  shall  be  far  happier  to  con- 
tinue it.  I  will  not  try  to  do  quite  so  much,"  she 
added,  thoughtfully,  "now  that  there  is  no  actual 
necessity  for  it;  I  will  perhaps  give  you  one  or  two 
designs  a  year,  but  I  could  not  think  of  living  an  idle 
life." 

"I  shall  be  only  too  glad  to  get  anything  from  your 
pen,"  Mr.  Knight  returned.  "But  what  do  you  think 
about  removing  to  New  York?  I  am  contemplating 
giving  up  my  business  here  and  establishing  myself 
in  New  York  city.  My  partner,  who,  as  you  know,  is 
a  younger  man  than  I,  wants  to  branch  out  a  little 
more  than  I  care  to  at  my  age,  so  I  have  sold  out  to 
him.    Still,  I,  too,  am  unwilling  to  be  idle,  so  I  think 


THKEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


23 


I  will  go  East  and  do  a  little  quiet  business  on  my 
own  account." 

"It  maters  very  little  to  me  where  I  am  located," 
iVirgie  said,  with  a  sigh.  It  was  a  little  hard,  she 
thought,  not  to  have  any  ties  anywhere.  "I  should 
like  to  travel  a  portion  of  every  year,  and  I  may  as 
well  make  my  headquarters  in  New  York  as  any- 
where." 

And  now  it  seemed  as  if  a  very  peaceful,  if  not 
delightful  future  lay  before  her;  yet,  aside  from  the 
many  advantages  which  her  newly  acquired  wealth 
would  enable  her  to  give  her  child,  its  possession  gave 
her  but  very  little  pleasure. 

She  did  not  believe  that  life  would  ever  hold  any 
special  enjoyment  for  her  again.  Excepting  her  child^ 
she  had  not  a  single  object  for  which  to  live,  nothing 
to  look  forward  to.  She  cared  little  for  society,  in- 
deed she  shrank  from  meeting  strangers ;  at  least, 
those  in  her  own  position  in  life,  although  she  went 
much  among  the  poor,  and  spent  money  freely  upon 
them. 

When  Mr.  Knight  went  to  New  York  she  v/ent  also, 
making  a  quiet  but  elegant  home  for  herself  not  far 
from  his  residence,  where  he  and  his  sister  kept 
bachelor's  and  old  maid's  hall,  and  there  she  lived 
her  uneventful  life,  with  nothing  save  a  season  of 
travel  now  and  then,  to  vary  its  monotony. 

Thus  several  years  went  by.  She  never  heard  one 
word  either  from  or  of  Heathdale ;  she  knew  not 
whether  Sir  William  was  living  or  dead,  prosperous 
or  otherwise,  though  often  her  heart  yearned  for 
some  tidings  of  him. 

One  summer,  when  little  Virgie  was  nine  years  of 
age,  they  went  for  a  week  or  two  to  Niagara  Falls. 


'24  THREADS  GATHEEED  UP. 

iVirgie  had  never  visited  the  place,  and  she  promised 
herself  a  rare  treat  in  studying  nature  there  in  all  its 
grandeur,  and  in  making  some  sketches  for  the  coming 
winter's  work. 

She  reached  the  village  late  in  the  day,  and  was 
driven  directly  to  one  of  the  principal  hotels,  where 
she  ordered  a  couple  of  rooms — for  she  had  a  maid 
with  her — and  then  stepped  to  the  office  to  register. 

After  she  had  done  so  she  carelessly  glanced  over 
some  of  the  preceding  pages  to  see  who  were  guests 
in  the  house. 

At  the  top  of  one  of  the  pages,  and  under  the  date 
of  a  week  previous,  she  saw  three  names  that  sent 
every  drop  of  blood  back  upon  her  heart  and  turned 
her  giddy  and  faint. 

"William  Heath  and  wife.  Master  Willie  Heath 
and  maid,"  she  read,  and  every  letter  seemed  as  if  it 
had  been  branded  in  characters  of  fire  upon  her  brain. 


3:hkeads  GATHEEED  UB  25 


CHAPTER  III. 

VIRGIE  SHALL  YET  HAVE  HER  INHERITANCE. 

Could  it  be  possible  that  the  man  who  had  been  her 
husband  had  come  again  to  this  country,  accompanied 
by  the  woman  who  had  supplanted  her? 

They  had  a  child  too,  it  seemed,  a  young  heir,  and 
they  were  all  underneath  the  same  roof  with  her. 

For  a  moment  she  was  dazed  with  the  knowledge; 
then  she  was  tempted  to  dash  the  pen  through  her  own 
name  and  fly  to  some  other  place. 

But  she  did  not  like  to  make  herself  conspicuous ;  even 
now  the  clerk  had  noticed  her  emotion,  and  was  asking 
her  if  she  was  faint  and  would  like  a  glass  of  water.  So 
she  braced  herself  to  face  whatever  might  come,  though 
she  felt  as  if  it  would  kill  her  to  meet  the  m.an  who  had 
once  called  her  wife. 

She  resolved  to  go  to  her  rooms  and  remain  in  them, 
at  least  for  a  day  or  two,  then  she  would  quietly  leave 
the  hotel  and  go  to  some  other. 

She  found  her  apartments  very  pleasant,  overlooking 
the  river  and  the  rapids,  while  in  the  distance  she  could 
hear  the  never-ceasing  roar  of  the  falls.  But  there  were 
no  attractions  in  the  place  now  for  her ;  all  interest  had 
been  swallowed  up  in  the  intense  excitement  that  had 
taken  possession  of  her. 

She  slept  but  little  that  night,  and  during  all  the  next 
day  she  was  wretched  and  almost  ill.  All  her  wrongs 
seemed  to  rise  uo  afresh  before  her,  and  she  wondered 
that  Sir  William  had  dared  to  cross  the  ocean  lest  her: 


26 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


vengeance  should  overtake  him.  He  was  traveling,  too, 
the  same  as  he  used  to,  as  plain  Mr.  Heath.  Oh,  how 
supremely  happy  she  had  been  in  those  lovely  rooms  in 
New  York,  when  she  had  believed  herself  to  be  his 
honored  wife,  and  was  looking  forward  to  a  bright  future 
as  the  mistress  of  Heathdale. 

But  now  she  believed  another  was  reigning  there. 
She  wondered  if  she  was  fair  and  lovely;  if  she  had 
ever  suspected  the  wrong  that  her  husband  had  done 
his  first  wife.  She  wondered,  too,  if  Sir  William  had 
ever  legalized  that  mock  marriage  after  receiving  the 
notice  of  his  divorce  from  her. 

All  day  she  lay  there,  too  miserable  to  rise,  listening 
to  every  footfall  that  passed  her  door;  she  believed  that 
she  could  recognize  his  step,  even  though  a  decade  of 
years  had  passed  since  she  had  heard  it. 

When  night  came  again  she  was  nearly  worn  out, 
and,  with  little  Virgie  clasped  close  to  her  heart,  she 
slept  the  sleep  of  exhaustion,  and  awoke  the  next  morn- 
ing feeling  stronger  and  much  refreshed,  though  still 
very  unhappy. 

She  would  not  go  down  to  breakfast,  however,  but 
had  it  served  in  her  room.  She  had  not  courage  to 
come  face  to  face  with  the  man  who,  she  beUeved,  had 
so  wronged  her;  she  shrank  from  him,  but  even  more 
from  the  woman  who,  she  supposed,  occupied  the  posi- 
tion that  belonged  to  her. 

After  breakfast  she  dressed  her  little  daughter  in  the 
daintiest  manner,  and  sent  her  out  for  a  walk  with  her 
maid,  telling  the  latter  that  she  might  keep  Virgie  out 
as  long  as  desired,  as  she  was  not  feeling  well  and  wished 
to  be  quiet. 

When  they  were  gone  she  law  down  again,  and  tried 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP  27 


to  think  what  was  best  for  her  to  do.  Should  she  go 
away  immediately,  and  avoid  all  danger  of  being  seen 
and  recognized?  Should  she  fly  from  the  temptation 
that  was  fast  laying  hold  of  her  to  look  once  more  upon 
the  old-time  lover — the  father  of  her  child  ? 

She  feared  that  it  was  not  wise  for  her  to  linger  there ; 
indeed  she  knew  that  it  would  be  far  better  for  her 
'  peace  of  mind  to  turn  resolutely  away  from  all  that  per- 
tained to  the  past,  go  elsewhere,  and  try  to  forget — if 
that  were  possible — that  such  a  person  as  Sir  William 
Heath  had  ever  existed. 

She  fell  asleep  while  musing  thus,  and  was  conscious 
of  nothing  more  until  someone  knocked  upon  her  door, 
and  a  childish  voice  called  out : 

"Mamma !  mamma !  oh,  please  let  me  in.  I  want  to 
tell  you  something." 

Virgie  aroused  herself,  and  going  to  the  door,  unlocked 
and  opened  it,  and  was  confronted  by  her  little  daughter, 
lier  face  flushed  and  eager,  her  hat  hanging  from  her 
neck  by  its  blue  ribbons,  her  golden  curls  floating  in 
charming  disarray  about  her  shoulders,  while  she  held 
by  the  hand  a  bright,  dark-eyed  little  boy,  perhaps  a 
year  younger  than  herself. 

"Oh,  mamma!"  cried  little  Virgie,  all  excitement,  "I 
have  had  such  a  lovely  time  down  stairs  on  the  veranda. 
There  was  the  nicest  lady  and  gentleman  there,  and  this 
is  their  little  boy.  We  played  a  long  time  with  some 
beautiful  white  stones,  and  we  had  some  caramels  and 
tai¥y,  the  lady  told  us  some  pretty  stories,  and  Willie's 
papa  sang  us  such  a  funny  song;  then  they  went  away 
for  a  walk,  and  told  Willie  that  he  might  come  and  play 
with  me  for  a  little  while." 

Something  made  Virgie  grow  very  pale  and  still  while 


28 


ITHEEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


her  cliild  was  talking;  something  in  those  dark  eyes  of 
the  Httle  stranger,  Hfted  in  wonder  and  inquiry  to  her 
beautiful,  white  face,  made  her  shrink  and  tremble,  a 
terrible  suspicion  in  her  heart. 

She  stooped  quickly  and  looked  closer  into  the  small, 
upturned  face. 

"Your  name  is  Willie,"  she  said,  in  a  low,  repressed 
tone— Willie  what?" 

"Willie  Heath,"  he  answered,  regarding  her  earnestly. 

"Yes,  mamma,  and  he  lives  away  over  the  sea,  in  Eng- 
land— away  over  that  water  where  poor  papa  went 
and — ~" 

"Yes,  dear,"  said  Virgie,  interrupting  her,  and  though 
she  had  known  well  enough,  the  moment  she  saw  him, 
who  the  child  was,  the  sound  of  those  two  names  smote 
her  with  such  startling  force  that  she  reeled  dizzily  and 
was  obliged  to  lay  hold  of  the  door  for  support. 

"Poor  mamma!  your  head  is  bad  again,  isn't  it?" 
said  her  little  girl,  taking  her  hand  and  lifting  it  ten- 
derly to  her  lips,  while  she  looked  pitifully  into  her  white 
face. 

"Yes,  darling,  and  I  shall  have  to  lie  down  again ;  but 
you  and  your  little  friend  may  come  in  if  you  like,"  she 
forced  herself  to  say,  as  she  feebly  made  her  way  to  a 
lounge,  and  almost  fell  upon  it,  a  deadly  faintness  nearly 
overpowering  her. 

"No,  mamma;  we  will  go  out  into  the  hall  and  play," 
Virgie  replied,  while  the  young  stranger  regarded  the 
stricken  woman  with  wide,  grave  eyes.  "I  am  going  to 
get  that  box  of  toys  that  you  bought  me  yesterday,  then 
iWillie  and  I  will  go  away,  and  we  will  not  make  any 
noise,  so  you  can  sleep.  Does  your  mamma  ever  have 
such  dreadful  headaches?"  she  asked  of  the  boy. 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


29 


"No,  but  papa  does  sometimes ;  then  he  has  to  stay  in 
a  dark  room,  and  everybody  has  to  keep  as  still  as  mice," 
he  answered. 

It  seemed  to  the  suffering  woman  as  if  she  could  not 
suppress  a  moan  of  agony  to  hear  the  child  call  that  man 
**papa,"  and  she  wondered  if  he  ever  knew  what  it  was 
to  have  such  a  heartache  as  she  was  at  that  moment 
suffering. 

Little  Virgie  secured  her  box  of  playthings,  and  then 
the  two  children  tiptoed  out  of  the  room,  softly  shutting 
the  door  after  them,  while  Virgie  lay  another  hour  trying 
to  compose  herself  and  rally  her  shattered  nerves. 

She  arose  at  last  with  the  fixed  determination  to  have 
one  look  at  the  man  and  woman  whom  she  believed  had 
ruined  her  life — just  one  glance  to  see  how  life  had  dealt 
with  them,  and  then  she  would  fly  from  all  danger  and 
temptation. 

She  arrayed  herself  in  a  lovely  dress  of  black  lace,  made 
over  rich  lavender  silk,  and  looped  here  and  there  with 
glistening  ribbons  of  the  same  color.  She  had  coiled  her 
abundant  hair  in  a  coronet  about  her  shapely  head  and 
pinned  it  with  a  golden  arrow,  in  which  there  gleamed  a 
single  diamond.  Her  ornaments  were  of  dead  rough  gold, 
fashioned  in  some  quaint  design,  and  she  fastened  in  her 
belt  a  cluster  of  white  acacia  blossoms,  which  made  a 
lovely  contrast  against  the  black  and  lavender  of  her 
dress. 

She  was  exquisitely  beautiful,  and  she  realized  the 
fact  as  she  finished  her  toilet,  and  she  could  not  help 
wondering  what  she — that  other  woman  was  like — the 
woman  who  had  won  her  husband  from  her. 

She  could  hear  the  merry  voices  of  the  children,  who 
were  still  at  their  play  in  the  hall,  and  a  bitter  smile 


30 


THEEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


curled  her  lips  as  she  thought  how  unconscious  they  were 
of  each  other's  identity,  or  of  the  torture  she  was  suffer- 
ing to  have  them  thus  together,  two  rivals,  she  believed, 
for  the  same  name  and  inheritance. 

After  a  little  she  went  to  her  door  and  looked  out  at 
them.  The  children  were  both  seated  upon  the  floor,  with 
Virgie's  toys  between  them,  and  wer  chatting  gayly  with 
all  the  unconscious  freedom  of  childhood. 

"Oh,  mamma,  you  are  better!"  cried  Virgie,  catching 
sight  of  her  mother,  her  face  lighting  with  pleasure,  *'and 
how  nice  you  look !  Willie,"  turning  with  an  impressive 
air  to  her  companion,  "do  you  know  I  think  my  mamma 
is  the  prettiest  mamma  there  is  in  the  world ;  yours  is  very 
nice  and  grand,  but  I  don't  think  she  is  quite  as  lovely 
as  mine." 

The  boy  fixed  his  eyes  on  Virgie,  and  looked  gravely 
thoughtful  for  a  moment,  as  if  debating  the  point  in  his 
•mind,  and  she  was  amused,  in  spite  of  her  pain,  by  his 
evident  desire  to  be  guilty  of  no  disloyalty,  and  yet  not 
wound  his  new  friend  by  contradicting  her  assertion,  as 
he  replied : 

"Well,  perhaps ;  but  my  papa  is  very  handsome.  Where 
is  your  papa?" 

"Sh !"  Virgie  whispered,  as  her  mother  turned  quickly 
away  at  the  question  and  walked  to  the  end  of  the  corri- 
dor, where  there  was  an  alcove  inclosed  by  rich  draperies, 
**it  makes  mamma  very  sad  to  say  anything  about  my 
papa.  We  lost  him  when  I  was  a  little  baby." 

"Lost  him!" 

"Yes;  he  went  away  over  the  same  sea  that  you  had 
to  cross  and  he  never  came  back." 

"Oh!  he  was  drownded!"  whispered  the  little  fellow, 
in  an  awe-stricken  voice,  and  looking  exceedingly  shocked. 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP  81 

''What  is  your  mamma's  name?"  he  asked,  after  a 
pause. 

'''Virginia — the  same  as  mine.    What  is  yours?" 

'"'^Margaret,  and  it  means  *'a  pearl'  Papa  sometimes 
calls  her  his  'pearl  of  great  price.'  " 

''Oh!'-'  moaned  Virgie  from  behind  the  draperies,  as 
she  caught  these  words,  "a  pearl  of  great  price,  indeed." 

Just  then  a  door  midway  of  the  corridor  opened  and 
another  lady  came  slowly  down  the  lofty  hall. 

She  was  tall  and  commanding  in  figure;  not  so  slight  or 
graceful  as  Virgie,  but  possessing  a  sweet  and  gracious 
dignity  that  was  exceedingly  pleasing. 

She  was  a  perfect  blonde,  and  her  beautiful  golden 
hair  was  gathered  into  a  massive  and  graceful  knot  at  the 
back  of  her  head.  Her  eyes  were  blue,  her  cheeks  deli- 
cately tinted  with  pink,  and  a  rare,  winning  smile  played 
about  her  sweet  mouth. 

She  was  dressed  all  in  white.  A  robe  of  some  soft 
clinging  material  was  en  train very  artistically  draped 
and  elaborately  trimmed  with  a  profusion  of  white  satin, 
ribbons.  She  wore  an  elegant  set  of  opals  surrounded 
with  diamonds,  and  was  truly  a  beautiful  and  distin- 
guished looking  woman. 

Her  face  gleamed  with  infinite  tenderness  as  she  drew 
near  the  children. 

'''Why,  are  you  still  playing  together?"  she  asked,  as 
she  stopped  beside  them;  "you  seem  inclined  to  be  very 
friendly." 

"Yes,  Virgie  is  a  very  nice  girl  to  play  with,"  returned 
Master  Heath,  with  the  air  of  one  paying  a  great  com- 
pliment :  "and  see  what  she  has  given  me,  mamma,"  he 
added,  holding  up  a  handful  of  toys. 


32  f  EEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


"Do  not  let  the  little  girl  rob  herself,"  said  his  mother, 
in  a  voice  of  tender  caution. 

"No;  she  made  me  take  them;  and — oh,  mamma!  I 
have  seen  her  mamma — she  was  here  just  now — such  a 
lovely  lady !  And  Virgie  says  she  lost  her  papa  when  she 
was  a  little  baby — he  was  drownded." 

"Drowned,  you  mean,  Willie,"  corrected  the  lady; 
"how  sad!  but  perhaps  you  ought  not  to  talk  about  it, 
dear,"  she  added  tenderly,  as  she  bent  forward  and  softly 
stroked  Virgie's  glossy  hair  with  her  jeweled  hand. 

There  were  tears  in  her  eyes  as  she  said  it,  and  though 
Virgie,  in  her  hiding-place  behind  the  draperies,  could 
not  see  these,  she  could  hear  the  slight  tremulousness  in 
her  tones,  and  she  knew  that  she  was  a  tender-hearted, 
sympathetic  woman. 

She  then  began  to  talk  about  something  else  and  thus 
led  their  minds  away  from  the  sad  topic  until  in  a  few 
moments  they  were  laughing  in  the  merriest  manner — • 
the  childish  voices  ringing  out  fresh  and  clear,  that  of  the 
beautiful  woman  like  a  silver  bell. 

Virgie  saw  and  heard  all  with  the  keenest  pain  in  her 
heart  and  though  a  torturing  jealousy  filled  her  soul — a 
sense  of  wrong  and  humiliation — from  the  belief  that 
another  had  supplanted  her  in  the  heart  and  home  of  the 
man  she  loved,  yet  she  could  but  own  the  worth,  the 
beauty,  and  the  fascination  of  that  sweet,  womanly 
woman  who  seemed  so  unconscious  of  wrong,  whose 
heart  was  so  full  of  tenderness  and  sympathy  for  the 
sorrows  of  others. 

Oh,  if,  as  she  stood  behind  those  curtains  peering  out 
upon  that  merry,  attractive  group,  she  could  have  known 
how  very  near  she  was  just  then  to  happiness  and  an 
explanation  of  all  the  dark  past,  she  never  would  have 
concealed  herself  as  she  did.  She  would  have  made  her- 


THEE  ADS  GATHEKED  UP  33 


self  known;  she  would  have  sought  rather  than  shunned 
that  beautiful  w^oman  in  \vhite,  and  learned  the  mistake 
that  had  so  embittered  the  last  ten  years  of  her  life. 

But  she  could  more  resolutely  have  faced  a  wild  beast 
than  those  pure,  innocent  eyes  and  that  happy  smile.  At 
first  she  had  thought  that  she  would  go  down  to  din- 
ner, she  would  assert  herself  and  make  her  presence  a 
living  reproach  to  the  guilty  pair. 

But  now  she  knew  she  could  not ;  her  strength  would 
fail  her,  and  she  only  longed  for  an  opportunity  to  steal 
aw^ay  unobserved  to  her  room  and  hide  her  wretchedness 
once  more  from  every  human  eye. 

She  turned  away  from  that  pretty  tableau  w^here  her 
'darling  was  so  happy,  and  gazed  out  upon  the  street  be- 
neath her;  but  she  saw  nothing,  heard  nothing,  for  the 
tumult  within  her  heart  and  brain. 

She  was  conscious  of  nothing  else  till  a  movement  al- 
most beside  her  caused  her  to  turn  suddenly,  and  she 
found  herself  face  to  face  with  WilHam  Heath's  wife. 

''I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  latter,  flushing  slightly 
as  she  met  the  startled,  surprised  look  that  shot  into  Vir- 
gie's  eyes;  "I  did  not  know  that  any  one  was  here.  I 
came  to  find  a  book  that  I  left  here  yesterday." 

Virgie  bowed,  and  moved  aside  to  see  if  she  w-as  hid- 
ing it;  but  her  heart  beat  almost  suffocatingly,  and  she 
was  as  white  as  that  cluster  of  acacias  in  her  belt. 

Yes,  there  was  a  volum.e  lying  on  the  chair  beside  her, 
which  Mrs.  Heath  recognized,  remarking  as  she  took 
(possession  of  it: 

"Ah,  yes,  this  is  it.  Thank  you;  I  am  sorry  to  have 
intruded  upon  you."  Then,  with  an  upward,  admiring 
glance  into  the  beautiful  face,  she  added :  "Pray,  excuse 
!me,  but  are  not  you  the  mother  of  the  little  girl  who  is 


B4  THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


playing  with  my  son  in  the  corridor?  The  resemblance 
between  you  is  very  striking." 

"Yes,  Virgie  is  my  daughter,"  Virgie  answered,  laying 
an  unconscious  stress  upon  the  pronoun. 

''She  is  a  dear  little  thing — so  merry,  yet  so  gentle  and 
affectionate,"  remarked  Mrs.  Heath,  with  a  tender  inflec- 
tion which  somewhat  softened  her  listener,  "and  I  believe 
she  is  the  loveliest  child  I  ever  saw.  How  old  is  she?'* 

"She  was  nine  in  June." 

"And  my  boy  is  eight,"  smiled  the  fond  mother,  with  a 
proud,  backward  glance;  "and  he  seems  to  have  become 
really  attached  to  Virgie  during  the  little  time 
they  have  played  together.  Have  you  been  in  Niagara 
long,  Mrs.  Alexander?" 

Virgie  started  at  being  thus  addressed  by  the  woman 
who  bore  the  name  which  had  once  been  rightly  her  own. 

"We  arrived  the  day  before  yesterday,"  she  said, 
briefly. 

"Ah !  So  recently  ?"  replied  her  companion,  wondering 
v^hy  the  beautiful  woman  should  be  so  reserved.  "Then 
you  have  had  no  opportunity  to  see  the  attractions  of  the 
place,  and  it  is  wonderful  here.  I  have  never  seen  any- 
thing so  grand  in  all  Europe  as  these  mighty  falls  and  the 
rapids." 

She  was  so  sweet  and  gracious,  and  evidently  so  desir- 
ous of  pleasing,  that  Virgie  was  seized  with  an  impulse  to 
show  her  the  better  side  of  her  character.  She  felt  sure 
that  they  would  meet  again  some  day  when,  perhaps,  their 
relative  positions  might  be  reversed,  and  something  like 
a  feeling  of  pity  for  the  lovely  woman  prompted  her  to 
put  aside  her  pain,  her  jealousy  and  bitterness,  and  exert 
herself  to  be  agreeable. 

She  responded  cordially  to  the  remarks  she  had  just 
made  relative  to  the  scenery  of  that  locality,  and  thus. 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


35 


once  launched,  she  talked  as  she  had  never  talked  before 
— of  nature,  of  art,  of  literature,  of  men,  and  things  gen- 
erally ;  and  when,  half  an  hour  later,  the  two  women  sep- 
arated, Mrs.  Heath  was  fascinated,  almost  enraptured. 

"I  have  never  met  any  one  so  brilliant  or  beautiful 
before,"  she  murmured  to  herself,  as  she  went  to  call  her 
boy  from  his  play,  remarking  that  he  must  bid  his  little 
friend  *'good-by,  since  papa  had  decided  that  they  were 
to  leave  directly  after  dmner.'' 

Several  hours  later,  as  the  twilight  had  begun  to  deepen, 
Virgie,  weak  and  pale  from  the  excitement  of  the  day, 
sat  upon  the  balcony  opening  from  her  room,  eagerly 
watching  a  little  scene  below. 

A  carriage  had  just  been  driven  to  the  door.  Two  large 
trunks  were  brought  out  from  the  hotel  and  strapped 
upon  it,  then  a  gentleman  and  a  lady  with  a  little  boy 
and  maid  followed. 

Virgie  crouched  down  behind  the  railing  and  strained 
her  eyes  for  a  look  at  that  tall,  manly  figure,  firmly  believ- 
ing it  to  be  Sir  William  Heath — her  recreant  husband. 

He  stood  by  the  carriage  door  and  assisted  his  wife  to 
enter  with  affectionate  care,  seeing  that  she  was  perfectly 
comfortable  before  he  attended  to  anything  else;  then  he 
caught  his  boy  in  his  arms,  and  with  some  playful  remark, 
which  the  eager  ear  above  could  not  catch,  tossed  him 
lightly  in  beside  his  mother.  Then  the  maid  was  kindly 
assisted,  after  which  he  entered  himself,  and  the  travelers 
were  driven  away. 

But  Mrgie,  with  all  her  anxiety  to  do  so,  had  not  been 
able  to  catch  even  one  glimpse  of  that  face.  There  was 
something  familiar  about  the  form,  although  it  was 
somewhat  stouter  than  Sir  William  had  been  ten  years 
ago,  while  he  had  spoken  so  low  that  she  could  not  tell 
"whether  it  was  the  old  loved  voice  or  not;  but  as  the 


THREADS  GATHERED  UE 


carriage  was  whirled  away  in  the  growing  dusk  she 
felt  a  hundred-fold  more  desolate  than  ever  before. 

They  were  so  happy,  she  so  miserable!  Why,  oh,  why 
must  such  things  be? 

Then  a  different  mood  took  possession  of  her,  and  she 
grew  hard  and  stern. 

"It  is  coming — a  day  of  retribution  will  surely  come," 
she  said.  'There  may  be  a  son  to  inherit  the  title,  but,  if 
he  told  me  the  truth,  the  eldest  born  inherits  the  bulk  of 
the  property,  and  Virgie  shall  yet  have  her  inheritance." 


THREADS  GATHERED  UE  3T 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A  STARTLING  DISCOVERY'. 

It  was  a  great  relief  to  Virgie  to  know  that  the  Heaths 
were  gone,  for  now  she  would  be  perfectly  free  from  all 
restraint  and  could  go  about  as  much  as  she  desired  with- 
out the  fear  of  encountering  them. 

She  remained  a  fortnight  at  the  falls,  visiting  every- 
place of  interest  in  the  vicinity,  and  making  many  beau- 
eiful  sketches.  Then  she  turned  her  face  westward  and 
northward,  following  the  great  lakes,  intending  to  see 
•much  of  the  scenery  of  Michigan  and  Wisconsin  before 
her  season  of  travel  should  end. 

She  traveled  very  leisurely,  never  hurrying  from  place 
to  place,  for  she  strove  to  get  all  the  enjoyment  possible 
out  of  her  tours,  both  for  herself  and  her  little  girl,  who 
was  never  happier  than  when  journeying  in  this  easy- 
way. 

But  once  they  were  obliged  to  ride  all  night.  It  was 
not  often  that  Virgie  would  allow  herself  to  do  this,  for 
they  could  not  rest  well  upon  the  cars,  but  in  this  instance 
it  seemed  to  be  necessary  in  order  to  make  connections. 

She  retired  early  for  the  sake  of  little  Virgie,  who  was 
nervous  at  being  on  the  train  at  night,  they  taking  the 
lower  berth  of  their  section,  while  the  maid  occupied  the 
tipper  one. 

Virgie  was  very  weary  and  soon  dropped  asleep  with- 
out a  thought  of  danger  or  of  the  terrible  tragedy  that 
was  so  soon  to  send  a  score  of  those  thoughtless  travelers 


38  THKEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


into  eternity,  maim  as  many  more  for  life,  and  stamp 
every  memory  with  a  never-to-be-forgotten  horror. 

Virgie  did  not  know  how  long  she  had  slept,  when  she 
became  conscious  of  several  heavy  thuds  against  the  bot- 
tom of  the  car  she  was  in,  accompanied  by  violent  jerks 
and  wrenches,  and  a  swaying  from  side  to  side;  then  it 
seemed  as  if  they  were  being  thrown  into  space ;  there  was 
one  awful  moment  of  horror  and  suspense,  then  a  terrible 
crash,  mingled  with  shrieks,  and  groans,  and  prayers; 
after  that  darkness  and  oblivion. 

When  she  came  to  herself  again  it  was  to  find  her  little 
daughter  clinging  to  her  in  an  agony  of  terror,  calling 
piteously  to  her  to  "wake  up  and  take  her  out  of  that 
dreadful  place." 

She  tried  to  sit  up,  but  found  that  she  could  not,  there 
was  barely  space  between  her  own  and  the  upper  berth  to 
admit  of  her  moving  at  all.  To  make  the  situation  even 
more  appalling  it  was  as  dark  as  Erebus,  while  the  cries 
for  help  and  the  shrieks  of  pain  all  around  her  filled  her 
with  a  sickening  horror,  and  she  knew  there  had  been  a 
dreadful  disaster. 

"Are  you  hurt,  darling  she  asked,  an  agony  of  dread 
at  her  heart,  and  her  relief  was  almost  as  intense  when 
the  reply  came: 

"No,  mamma,  only  so  frightened  by  the  dreadful 
noises." 

Virgie  had  not  removed  her  clothing,  simply  loosened 
it,  and  now  it  was  the  work  of  but  a  moment  or  two  to 
gather  her  wraps  about  her,  fold  a  shawl  around  Virgie 
and  help  her  from  the  berth,  though  she  found 
great  difficulty  in  standing  erect,  for  the  car  had  been 
thrown  partly  upon  its  side. 

She  called  to  her  maid;  but  there  was  no  reply,  and, 
fearing  the  worst  for  the  poor  girl,  Virgie  resolved  to 


THREADS  GATHEEED  UP 


39 


get  her  darling  out  of  danger  and  then  return  to  see  what 
she  could  do  for  her  unconscious  servant. 

They  worked  their  way  out  of  the  car  with  difficulty, 
realizing  as  they  did  so  that  the  portion  where  they  had 
been  was  the  least  shattered  of  any — that  they  had  been 
"wonderfully  preserved. 

Virgie  emerged  from  the  debris  as  well  as  she  could,, 
and  found  herself  in  a  swamp.  She  could  now  account 
for  that  sensation  of  being  thrown  into  space,  and  the 
awful  moment  of  suspense  following  before  that  terrible 
crash  had  come ;  the  train  had  been  pitched  from  its  road- 
bed, she  did  not  know  how  many  feet  above,  and  now  lay 
a  mass  of  ruins  in  a  bog  or  meadow. 

She  bore  Virgie  to  more  solid  ground,  set  her  down 
by  some  bushes,  and  then,  throwing  her  own  mantle  over 
her,  bade  her  not  move  from  that  spot  until  she  came 
back  to  her  again. 

''Oh!  don't  go  back  again,  mamma,"  cried  the  child, 
clinging  to  her  in  terror. 

"I  must,  darling."  Virgie  answered,  firmly.  "I  cannot 
leave  ]\Iina  to  die  there.  Be  a  brave  little  girl  and  do  not 
detain  me.   I  will  come  back  as  soon  as  I  can." 

''But  I  am  afraid,  mamma." 

"Nothing  can  harm  you  now,  dear;  we  are  both  safe, 
thank  God !  while  no  one  can  tell  how  many  have  met 
their  doom  and  are  dead  or  dying." 

She  bent  down  and  kissed  the  child  tenderly,  thankiull}', 
and  then  sped  back  to  the  car,  determined  to  know  the 
fate  of  her  maid. 

All  about  her  the  direst  confusion  prevailed.  Men  were 
hurrying  hither  and  thither.  Women  were  weeping  and 
moaning,  and  wandering  about  calling  piteously  for  lost 
ones,  while  children  were  screaming  with  fright  and  pain. 

It  was  lighter  now,  for  two  of  the  cars  were  burning, 


40 


THREADS  GATHERED  UE 


having  taken  fire  from  overturned  lamps,  and  VLgie 
made  her  way  more  easily  back  into  the  sleeper  she  had 
left. 

''Mina !  Mina !"  she  called,  springing  toward  the  berth 
she  occupied,  and  to  her  intense  relief  a  muffled  sound 
came  back  in  reply,  and  she  knew  that  she  was  not  dead. 

She  found  that  the  top  of  her  car  had  been  smashed  in, 
and  the  girl,  thus  pinioned  to  her  berth,  was  half-suffo- 
cated by  the  pressure  from  above. 

Virgie  never  could  tell  afterward  how  she  managed  to 
release  her,  but  by  dint  of  encouragement  and  commands 
she  succeeded  in  making  the  girl  exert  herself,  and,  using 
all  her  own  strength,  she  by  degrees  got  her  to  the  edge 
of  the  berth  and  finally  out  of  it. 

"Are  you  badly  hurt  Mina?"  she  asked,  as  she  sup- 
ported the  half-fainting  girl,  and  wrapped  a  blanket 
around  her  trembling  form. 

"Yes,  marm,  my  left  arm  is  dreadful,"  the  girl  moaned, 
and  Virgie  could  feel  that  it  hung  limp  and  helplessly  by 
her  side,  and  she  knew  it  was  broken. 

"Well,  we  must  hurry  out  of  the  car,  for  it  is  filling 
with  smoke,  and  I  fear  has  taken  fire  somewhere,"  she 
said. 

They  were  just  turning  to  leave  the  place  when,  from 
the  very  midst  of  the  smoke  there  pealed  forth  a  heart- 
rending shriek: 

"Help!  help!  Will  no  one  save  me?" 

Virgie  felt  every  nerve  in  her  body  creep  at  the  sound. 

"Oh,  some  poor  creature  is  there,  and  will  be  burned  to 
death  if  help  does  not  come.  What  shall  we  do?"  she 
cried. 

Clearly  Mina  could  do  nothing  with  her  broken  arm, 
for  she  was  moaning  with  every  breath,  and  there  was 
no  one  else  at  hand ;  every  one  who  was  able  had  deserted 


THEE  ADS  GATHEEED  UP 


41 


the  car  long  since,  and  was  either  looking  out  for  number 
one  or  assisting  others  elsewhere ;  but  \'irgie  felt  that  she 
could  not  leave  the  sufferer,  whoever  it  might  be,  to  the 
terrible  fate  of  being  burned  to  death. 

She  helped  Mina  from  the  car.  told  her  where  she 
would  find  little  Virgie,  and  then  she  flew  back  to  find  the 
origin  of  that  pitiful  cry  for  help. 

'''\^'here  are  you?"  she  called,  as  she  groped  her  way 
toward  the  spot  from  whence  it  had  seemed  to  proceed. 

''Here.  Oh!  com.e  quickly  I  I  am  almost  suffocated! 
I  shall  be  burned  alive!"  was  the  agonized  response,  ac- 
companied by  groans  of  pain. 

It  was  a  woman.  Mrgie  knew  by  the  tones,  and  all  her 
sym.pathies  were  instantly  aroused. 

She  found  her  at  last,  and  her  heart  sank  within  her  as 
she  saw  her  condition,  for  the  poor  creature  was  wedged 
between  a  demolished  berth  and  the  side  of  the  car  in  such 
a  way  that  it  seemed  impossible  to  rescue  her. 

It  was  a  sickening  sight,  for,  already.  \'irgie  could  see 
little  tongues  of  flam.e  leaping  up  all  about  her  and  shoot- 
ing out  toward  her  as  if  eager  for  their  prey,  while  the 
smoke  was  rapidly  growing  denser. 

The  woman  saw  it.  too,  and  her  face  was  almost  con- 
vulsed with  agonv  and  fear. 

''Oh,  do  help  me."  she  prayed.  '"'I  shall  be  burned.  I 
cannot  die  such  a  horrible  death." 

Mrgie  felt  that  she  was  pov/erless — she  knew  that  she 
could  not  so  much  as  stir  that  mass  of  debris. 

"'I  will  go  and  call  some  one,"  she  said. 

'■'Xo.  no !  You  shall  not  leave  me,"  screamed  the 
woman,  frantic  with  terror. 

'']\Iadam,-"  Virgie  returned,  calmly  but  firmly,  *'it  is 
impossible  for  me  to  do  anything  for  you  unaided.  The 
best  I  can  do  will  be  to  go  for  help ;  but  first  tell  me  who 


42  THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


you  are  in  case  anything  should  happen  to  you  before  I 
can  return." 

''I  am  Lady  Linton.  I  live  in  Hampshire  County,  Eng- 
land, and  am  just  on  a  visit  to  this  country  v^ith  my  son 
and  daughter,  and  some  other  friends,  who  are  now  await- 
ing me  in  Chicago.  Now  go — go  and  save  me  if  you 
can." 

It  would  be  difficult  to  portray  with  what  stunning 
force  these  sentences  fell  upon  the  ears  of  Virginia  Alex- 
ander. 

Her  heart  almost  ceased  beating,  while  a  thousand 
thoughts  went  flashing  with  lightning-like  rapidity 
through  her  brain. 

She  had  recently  avoided  a  meeting  as  she  supposed, 
with  Sir  William  Heath;  and  had  now  encountered  in  this 
marvelous  way  his  sister — the  woman  who  had  written 
those  cruel  letters  to  Mrs.  Farnum  so  many  years  ago, 
but  which  were  still  stamped  upon  her  brain  so  indelibly 
that  she  could  repeat  them  word  for  word.  This  was  the 
v^oman  who  had  scorned  her  claims  upon  her  brother — 
who  had  heartlessly  advised  her  to  "settle  in  some  place 
where  she  was  not  known  and  try  to  bring  up  her  child  in 
a  respectable  way,"  who  had  insulted  her  by  sending  her 
a  hundred  pounds  to  soothe  her  disappointment  for  the 
loss  of  her  husband  and  because  she  could  not  be  recog- 
nized as  the  mistress  of  Heathdale;  and  now  she  lay 
crushed  beneath  a  mass  of  ruins,  doomed  to  a  dreadful 
death  unless  the  very  woman  she  had  so  wronged  and 
mocked  should  strain  every  effort  to  save  her.  It  was 
truly  a  strange  fate  that  placed  her  thus  in  the  power  of 
Virgie. 

For  an  instant  an  evil  spirit  took  possession  of  her  heart 
and  whispered: 


THREADS  GATHEEED  UP 


43 


"She  helped  to  ruin  my  life;  she  mocked  and  scoffed 
at  my  misery,  and  she  ought  to  suffer." 

But  the  next  moment  she  called  out  in  clear,  resolute 
tones : 

"1  will  save  you !  have  courage — do  not  fear,"  and  she 
almost  flew  over  the  debris,  through  the  gathering  smoke 
and  out  of  the  car,  where  she  seized  a  man  by  the  arm 
and  cried: 

"Come  with  me;  a  woman  is  helplessly  pinned  down 
inside  this  car;  it  is  on  fire,  and  she  will  soon  be  burned 
to  death." 

She  dragged  him  almost  by  main  force  into  the  burn- 
ing wreck,  and  made  her  way  back  to  the  spot  where  she 
had  left  her  suffering  foe. 

"I  can  never  get  her  out  of  there — ten  men  couldn't  do 
it  before  we  should  all  perish,"  said  her  companion,  when 
he  saw  her  situation. 

**You  must!  I  tell  you  she  shall  be  saved !"  Virgie  cried, 
almost  savagely,  and,  seizing  hold  of  one  of  the  fallen 
timbers  in  her  excitement,  she  gave  it  a  wrench  which 
told,  and  showed  that  it  was  not  impossible  as  it  had  first 
appeared  to  rescue  the  unhappy  victim. 

Thus  inspired  and  encouraged,  the  man  braced  himself 
and  pulled  with  all  his  might  at  the  berth  in  which  the 
w^oman  lay.    It  yielded ;  they  knew  they  would  save  her. 

A  fearful  shriek  rent  the  air ;  then  all  was  still. 

"Oh!  pull  her  out.  I  can  brace  this  beam  for  a  mo- 
ment," Virgie  cried,  and  calling  all  her  strength  and  will 
to  her  aid,  she  did  actually  brace  herself  against  one  of 
those  heavy  timbers,  holding  it  back,  until  the  man 
dragged  the  unfortunate  wom^an  from  her  perilous  situa- 
tion, and  then,  gathering  her  all  unconscious,  in  his  arms, 
he  staggered    out    of    the  now  rapidly  burning  car. 


44  '  THREADS  GATHERED  UP 

closely  followed  by  Virgie,  who  had  barely  strength 
enough  left  to  reach  the  open  air. 

"Lend  a  hand  here,  somebody,"  cried  her  companion, 
and  three  or  four  helpers  sprang  forward  to  reheve  him 
of  his  burden,  when  he  turned  and  caught  the  brave 
woman,  who  had  risked  her  own  life  to  save  that  of  an 
enemy,  just  as  her  strength  failed  her  and  she  would 
have  fallen  senseless,  back  into  the  burning  wreck. 

The  account  of  her  heroism  flew  from  lip  to  lip,  and 
many  willing  hands  were  stretched  forth  to  minister  to  her. 
Restoratives  were  brought,  a  physician  was  called  to  at- 
tend her,  and  it  was  not  many  minutes  before  she  rallied, 
although  she  was  as  weak  as  a  little  child  from  the  terri- 
ble strain  during  those  last  few  moments  in  the  burning 
car. 

But  she  refused  all  attention  now. 

"I  do  not  suffer — I  am  uninjured;  I  am  only  tempo- 
rarily exhausted.  Go  to  those  who  need  you,"  she  said, 
and  creeping  to  the  spot  where  she  had  left  her  child,  she 
gathered  her  close  in  her  arms  and  burst  into  a  passion 
of  thankful  tears — thankful,  not  only  because  they  had 
been  spared  unharmed  to  each  other,  but  because  she  had 
been  enabled  to  obey  the  divine  mandate  "Do  good  unto 
them  which  hate  you,"  and  though  Lady  Linton  might 
never  know  who  had  saved  her — might  never  experience 
an  atom  of  gratitude  to  her  whom  she  had  wronged,  yet 
she  would  always  have  the  blessed  consciousness  of  evil 
resisted  and  a  noble  action  performed. 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP. 


45 


CHAPTER  V. 

VIRGIE  BECOMES  A  NURSE. 

Three  cars  of  that  night  train  had  been  literally  dashed 
in  pieces,  two  more  had  been  partially  demolished,  and 
only  two  baggage  cars  and  the  engine  remained  unin- 
jured. 

Twenty  passengers  had  been  killed  outright,  several 
were  so  badly  injured  that  their  death  was  only  a  ques- 
tion of  time,  and  many  were  crippled  for  life. 

It  was  a  shocking  casualt}',  and  even  those  who  escaped 
unhurt  were  so  badly  shaken  up  and  so  unnerved  by  the 
sight  of  the  dead,  the  dying,  and  the  sufferings  of  the 
wounded,  that  they  dropped  exhausted  and  almost  help- 
less the  moment  the  necessity  for  action  was  over,  and 
all  who  could  be  removed  had  been  taken  out  of  the 
wreck. 

The  disaster  had  been  caused  by  a  broken  rail  on  a 
bridge  that  spanned  a  small  stream.  The  wrench  and 
strain  of  the  first  car,  as  it  was  thrown  from  the  track, 
had  snapped  the  iron  arch,  the  whole  structure  had  then 
given  away,  and  most  of  the  train  had  been  precipitated 
into  the  meadow  below,  with  the  fearful  results  already 
described. 

The  sleeper,  in  which  Virgie  had  been  traveling,  was 
the  least  shattered  of  any,  and  most  of  the  frightened 
passengers  had  escaped  from  it  as  soon  as  possible  after 
it  touched  the  ground. 

One  man  affirmed  that  he  went  back  afterward  to  ascer- 
tain if  any  one  remained  in  the  car,  but  there  had  beea 


46 


THKEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


no  response  to  his  shout,  he  could  see  nothing,  for  all  the 
lights  had  been  extinguished,  there  had  been  no  cries 
or  groans,  and  believing  that  everybody  had  succeeded 
in  getting  out,  he  went  elsewhere  to  render  assistance. 

It  was  supposed,  and  rightly,  that  Virgie,  with  her  maid 
and  child,  and  Lady  Linton,  must  have  been  stunned  by 
the  shock  of  going  over  the  embankment,  and  did  not 
recover  consciousness  until  all  others  had  left  the  wreck, 
and  thus,  had  it  not  been  for  the  brave  woman's  energy 
and  perseverance,  they  might  have  been  left  there  to 
perish. 

When  she  had  recovered  sufficiently  to  look  after  the 
comfort  of  her  small  family,  she  found  poor  Mina  suffer- 
ing extremely,  her  arm  having  been  broken  in  two  places, 
while  she  was  otherwise  badly  bruised ;  and  little  Virgie, 
although  she  had  escaped  without  even  a  scratch,  had  be- 
come almost  frantic  with  terror  on  account  of  her  moth- 
er's swoon. 

There  was  a  small  village  not  far  from  the  scene  of 
the  disaster,  and  to  this  the  sufferers  were  borne,  the 
kind-hearted  people  cheerfully  throwing  open  their  homes 
to  them  and  offering  whatever  they  had  to  make  them 
comfortable,  and  their  services  also  as  nurses.  Medical 
and  surgical  assistance  was  immediately  summoned,  and 
the  whole  place  immediately  became  a  veritable  hospital. 

Mina's  needs  were  among  the  first  to  be  attended  to, 
and  she  bore  the  operation  of  having  the  broken  bones 
set  with  much  fortitude  and  patience. 

After  that  was  over  she  became  comparatively  comfort- 
able, although  Virgie  hovered  about  her  all  day,  min- 
istering to  her  as  tenderly  as  if  she  had  been  a  sister, 
sparing  neither  her  own  strength  nor  expense  to  alle- 
viate her  sufferings. 


THEE ADS  GATHEEED  UP 


47 


But  toward  evening,  when  she  had  fallen  into  a  heavy 
sleep,  produced  by  an  anodyne,  and  little  Virgie,  wearied 
out  with  excitement  and  the  trying  scenes  that  she  had 
witnessed  during  the  day,  had  begged  to  be  put  to  bed, 
Virgie  bethought  herself  of  other  sufferers  and  went  out 
to  ascertain  if  she  could  be  of  assistance  elsewhere. 

Her  first  inquiry  was  for  Lady  Linton,  who,  she  found, 
had  been  carried  to  a  neighboring  cottage  and  was  re- 
ported as  very  seriously  injured. 

She  made  her  way  thither,  and  was  told  that,  although 
there  were  no  bones  broken,  it  was  feared  the  lady  had 
suffered  some  internal  injury  which  might  prove  fatal. 

She  had  been  unconscious  most  of  the  day,  but  now 
she  was  lying  in  a  heavy  sleep  that  almost  amounted  to 
stupor. 

Virgie  asked  the  weary  woman  who  told  her  this,  if  she 
could  be  of  any  assistance,  and  she  replied  that  if  she 
could  come  in  and  sit  awhile  with  the  sick  lady  it  would 
give  her  a  chance  to  get  her  husband's  supper  and  put 
her  house  in  order ;  she  had  neglected  everything  to  at- 
tend to  the  sufferer. 

\^irgie  willingly  complied,  and  passing  quietly  into  the 
sick  room,  she  sat  down  by  the  bed  and  looked  upon  her 
husband's  sister,  her  heart  filled  with  the  strangest 
emotions. 

She  saw  that  she  slightly  resemxbled  Sir  William,  al- 
though she  w^as  a  good  many  years  older  and  not  nearly 
so  attractive.  This,  however,  might  be  owing  somewhat 
to  her  injuries,  for  there  were  several  bruises  about  her 
head  and  face ;  she  looked  haggard  and  v/om ;  her  hair 
was  in  disorder  and  thin  and  quite  gray;  one  hand  had 
been  badly  cut  and  lay  bandaged  upon  a  pillow  beside 
her,  and  truly  she  was  a  pitiable  object  in  her  present 
condition. 


48 


THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


For  long  years  Virgie  had  entertained  hard  and  bitter 
feelings  toward  this  woman.  She  did  not,  of  course, 
know  the  extent  of  the  wrong  of  which  she  had  been 
guilty,  but  she  had  never  forgotten  Lady  Linton's  arro- 
gance, nor  the  scorn  which  she  had  expressed  regarding 
her  to  Mrs.  Farnum;  still,  as  she  now  lay  there  before 
her,  so  helpless  and  miserable,  she  could  feel  only  com- 
passion and  regret  for  her.  Something  of  the  divine 
nature  always  animates  the  heart  and  begets  a  certain 
tenderness  for  those  whom  we  benefit,  particularly  if  some 
signal  sacrifice  has  been  made  to  secure  it. 

She  sat  there  beside  the  unconscious  woman  for  an 
hour  or  more,  changing  the  wet  cloths  on  her  bruised 
head  and  gently  fanning  her,  for  the  room  was  far  from 
airy  or  comfortable,  although  it  was  the  best  in  the  house. 

Then  the  physician  came  in,  and  Virgie  questioned 
him  regarding  Lady  Linton's  condition. 

He  could  not  tell  just  yet  how  serious  her  injuries 
were,  he  told  her.  They  might  not  prove  to  be  anything 
alarming,  but  her  nervous  system  had  undoubtedly  suf- 
fered a  severe  shock  which  might  prove  to  be  worse  than 
any  hurt. 

"Do  you  know  her  ?"  he  asked,  in  conclusion,  while  his 
keen  eyes  searched  Virgie's  beautiful  face  curiously.  He 
had  heard  something  of  the  heroism  which  she  had  shown 
that  morning  in  saving  the  woman's  life. 

'T  know  who  she  is,"  she  replied.  "Her  name  is  Lady 
Linton." 

"Hum !  English,  then,"  interrupted  the  doctor,  with  a 
quick  glance  at  the  figure  on  the  bed.  "Any  friends  in 
this  country?" 

"She  mentioned  that  she  was  on  her  way  to  Chicago  to 
meet  her  son  and  daughter,  and  some  other  friends,  but 
I  do  not  know  their  address." 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


4S 


"Where  is  her  home?" 

"With  her  brother,  Sir  WilHam  Heath,  in  Hampshire 
County,  England." 

Virgie  flushed  scarlet  as  she  spoke  this  name  which 
she  had  not  uttered  before  in  years. 

"She  ought  to  have  some  friends  here  to  care  for  her, 
but  he  is  so  far  away  it  would  be  useless  to  send  for  him, 
at  least  until  we  know  more  about  her  condition.  Was 
she  traveling  entirely  alone  ?" 

"I  judge  so.  She  spoke  of  no  one  being  with  her  when 
she  was  found." 

"You  found  her;  you  saved  her.  I  heard  about  it,'^ 
said  the  doctor,  his  face  glowing. 

"I  went  for  assistance,"  Virgie  returned,  quietly. 

"You  did  much  more  than  that,  madam.  Did  you 
escape  unhurt?" 

"Entirely,  and  my  little  daughter  also,  for  which  I  can- 
not be  too  grateful.  My  maid,  however,  has  a  broken 
arm,  besides  several  bruises ;  but  she  is  very  comfortable, 
and  requires  but  little  attention,  so  if  I  can  make  myself 
useful  by  caring  for  any  others  who  are  suffering,  I  shall 
be  more  than  glad  to  do  so." 

The  physician  thought  a  moment,  and  then  asked: 

"Have  you  ever  had  any  experience  in  a  sick-room?" 

"Yes.  My  father  was  an  invalid  many  months  before 
his  death." 

"Then  you  might  do  good  service  here,  if  you  are 
willing  to  devote  3^ourself  to  this  case  under  my  direc- 
tion. There's  only  one  woman  in  the  house.  She  can- 
not, of  course,  give  her  whole  time  to  nursing,  and  this 
lady  will  need  close  w^atching  and  a  great  deal  of  at- 
tention during  the  next  two  or  three  days.  Indeed 
she  really  needs  someone  w^ho  can  be  depended  upon." 

Virgie  flushed  again. 


50 


THKEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


It  was  very  strange,  she  thought,  that  she,  of  all  per^ 
sons,  should  be  commissioned  to  care  for  Lady  Linton 
at  such  a  critical  time. 

But  she  did  not  hesitate ;  it  was  her  duty  to  do  what 
she  could  for  her,  without  regard  to  her  own  personal 
feelings  in  the  matter;  her  enemy  was  like  the  Levite 
who  had  been  left  wounded  by  the  wayside,  and  it 
now  fell  to  her  to  act  the  good  Samaritan's  part. 

"Very  well,"  she  answered,  quietly,  *'then  you  may 
consider  that  I  am  at  your  service." 

The  doctor  looked  relieved,  and  after  giving  her 
minute  instructions  for  the  night,  he  went  his  way  to 
other  patients,  confident  that  he  could  not  leave  the 
sufferer  in  better  hands. 

As  soon  as  the  woman  of  the  house  was  at  liberty 
again,  Virgie  went  back  to  see  if  Mina  was  comfort- 
able, and  to  arrange  for  someone  to  wait  upon  her 
if  she  should  need  it  during  the  night,  and  then  she 
returned  to  her  charge. 

But  there  was  very  little  change  in  Lady  Linton's 
condition  during  the  next  two  days.  She  slept  most  of 
the  time,  only  rousing  to  take  the  nourishment  that 
was  almost  forced  upon  her,  and  then  sinking  into  that 
death-like  stupor  again. 

But  the  third  day  she  awoke  and  began  to  mani- 
fest some  interest  in  her  condition  and  surroundings, 
and  seemed  to  remember  all  that  had  occurred. 

Then,  after  a  thorough  examination,  it  was  ascer- 
tained that  her  injuries  was  not  nearly  so  serious  as 
had  at  first  been  feared.  There  was  a  severe  contu- 
sion on  one  side,  where  the  broken  timbers  of  the  car 
had  pinned  her  down  to  the  floor;  she  had  several 
ugly  scratches  and  flesh  wounds,  besides  bruises  on 
the  head,  and  one  ankle  was  badly  sprained.  The 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


51 


stupor,  as  the  physician  thought,  had  been  caused 
more  by  the  shock  to  the  whole  nervous  system  than 
by  her  injuries,  and  he  now  said  that  if  no  new 
symptoms  developed  she  would  improve  rapidly. 

And  it  proved  even  so.  At  the  end  of  a  week  she 
was  able  to  be  bolstered  up  in  bed,  and  began  to  ap- 
pear more  like  herself  and  to  realize  that  she  had  an- 
other lease  of  life. 

She  had  conceived  a  great  liking  for  Virgie,  although 
she  had  not  been  told,  neither  had  she  recognized  the 
fact  that  she  had  saved  her  from  death  at  the  time  of 
the  accident.  She  treated  her  with  the  greatest  def- 
erence— an  unusual  thing  for  the  haughty  woman  un- 
der any  circumstances— and  expressed  a  great  deal 
of  gratitude  for  the  attention  she  so  freely  bestowed 
upon  her. 

Once  she  had  begged  to  be  told  her  name,  and  Vir- 
gie had  told  her  to  call  her  ''nurse."  She  shrank  from 
telling  her  who  she  was  lest  she  should  recognize 
her. 

"But  you  are  not  a  nurse,  you  are  a  lady,"  she  per- 
sisted, "and  you  are  so  kind  to  me  I  want  to  know 
you." 

Virgie  could  not  fail  to  feel  a  thrill  of  triumph  at 
these  words,  she,  w^ho  had  been  "that  girl"  and  who 
had  been  held  up  to  such  scorn  and  contempt  in  those 
cruel  letters  so  long  ago. 

"I  am  simply  your  nurse  for  the  present,"  she  re- 
plied, with  averted  face ;  "perhaps  some  other  time  be- 
fore I  leave  you  I  will  tell  you  my  name,"  and  her 
ladyship  had  to  be  content  with  that. 

But  Virgie  did  not  remain  quite  so  much  with  her 
after  that,  she  did  not  need  such  constant  care,  and 
.she  left  her  more  with  the  woman  of  the  house.  She 


52 


THEEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


went  in  several  times  every  day,  and  was  careful  to 
see  that  she  had  every  attention,  but  there  was  a  quiet 
dignity  and  reserve  about  her  which  Lady  Linton  ad- 
mired. 

"Who  is  this  beautiful  woman  who  has  been  so 
kind  to  me — to  whom  I  owe  so  much?"  she  asked  the 
doctor  one  day. 

''Truly  she  is  a  beautiful  woman,  and  you  do  owe 
her  a  great  deal.  You  owe  her  your  life  twice  over," 
he  answered,  impressively. 

"How  so?"  was  the  surprised  query. 

"In  the  first  place  she  saved  you  from  that  burning 
wreck  almost  at  the  risk  of  her  own  life;  in  the  sec- 
ond place  she  is  the  only  one  in  the  town  who  could 
be  found  to  give  you  proper  care;  everybody  elese 
was  engaged  with  the  other  sufferers,  and  during  those 
days  and  nights  when  you  lay  in  that  heavy  stupor, 
she  never  left  you;  she  fed  you,  she  ministered  most 
faithfully  to  your  every  need,  and  brought  you  safely 
out  of  it." 

"Was  it  she  who  came  to  me  when  I  lay  pinned 
down  in  my  berth?"  asked  Lady  Linton,  gravely. 
"Yes,  madam." 
"Who  is  she?" 

"I  am  obliged  to  contess  that  I  do  not  know  her 
name,"  the  doctor  admitted,  smiling.  "I  doubt  if  she 
knows  mine  either.  We  have  not  stopped  to  exchange 
cards  in  this  business;  it  has  been  of  too  serious  a 
nature  to  admit  of  much  ceremony.  I  call  her 
'madam,'  and  she  has,  naturally,  addressed  me  as  'doc- 
tor.' " 

"She  seems  a  thorough  lady,"  said  his  patient, 
thoughtfully. 

She  had,  as  Sir  William  once  told  her  she  would, 


THEEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


changed  her  ideas  somewhat  regarding  Ame^-ican  peo- 
ple since  coming  to  this  country. 

**You  are  right,  madam,"  repHed  the  physician,  em- 
phatically. "It  has  never  been  my  privilege  to  meet 
a  more  cultured  lady  nor  a  truer  woman.  I  shall  cer- 
tainly ask  her  to  favor  me  with  her  name  and  address 
before  she  leaves." 

"Is  she  going  away?"  demanded  Lady  Linton, 
quickly. 

"Yes;  in  a  day  or  two,  I  believe;  her  maid  is  doing 
nicely  now  and  able  to  travel.  But,  bless  me,  I  must 
not  sit  chattering  here  when  there  are  more  than  forty 
patients  waiting  for  me." 

And  the  brisk  little  doctor  trotted  off,  leaving 
Lady  Linton  looking  very  thoughtful,  and  wondering^ 
who  her  mysterious  but  beautiful  nurse  might  be. 


^4 


THREADS  GATHERED  US 


CHAPTER  VI. 

''l  AM  THE  WOMAN  YOUR  BROTHER  LOVED." 

The  morning  after  the  foregoing  conversation  be- 
tween Lady  Linton  and  her  physician,  Virgie  went  in 
to  see  the  invalid,  taking  her  daughter  with  her. 

She  had  come  to  take  leave  of  her  ladyship,  for  they 
were  going  away  to  some  quiet  resort  for  a  few  weeks, 
for  Mina's  sake,  and  after  that  home  to  New  York. 
She  brought  Virgie  as  a  sort  of  shield  from  embarrass- 
ment, for  she  dreaded  any  effusions  of  gratitude  from 
the  woman  who,  she  felt  sure,  would  hate  her  even 
now,  in  spite  of  all  she  had  done  for  her,  for  having 
won  her  brother's  love ;  while,  too,  she  had  a  curiosity 
to  see  if  she  would  be  attracted  toward  her  child ;  she 
was  a  believer  in  the  old  adage  that  "blood  is  thicker 
than  water." 

The  invalid*s  face  lighted  the  moment  the  door 
opened  to  admit  her  kind  attendant. 

"I  am  so  glad  to  see  you,"  she  cried,  heartily;  then 
her  glance  fell  upon  the  beautiful  child,  and  she  added, 
with  evident  delight:  "And  you  have  brought  your 
little  daughter  with  you !  Come  here,  dear,  and  let  me 
see  if  you  are  as  lovely  as  your  mamma." 

She  held  out  both  hands  to  her  and  the  little  one 
went  composedly  forward  and  stood  before  her,  her 
dark  eyes  searching  the  woman's  face  with  a  look 
that  thrilled  her  strangely,  while  she  was  deeply  im- 
pressed with  her  wonderful  beauty. 

"You  are  very  like  your  mamma,"  said  Lady  Lin- 


THEE ADS  GATHEKED  UP 


55 


ton,  smiling  down  upon  the  sweet  child;  "all  except- 
ing your  eyes.    I  rather  imagine  that  those  came 
from  papa.    What  is  your  name,  dear?" 
"Virgie." 

Her  ladyship  started  slightly  and  glanced  quickly 
at  the  child's  mother,  and  something  that  she  saw  in 
that  beautiful  countenance  made  her  grow  suddenly 
pale. 

Her  mind  went  back  to  that  morning  when  her 
brother  had  laid  before  her  several  photographs  of 
his  lovely  wife,  and  she  was  almost  sure — even  though 
she  had  never  looked  upon  them  since — that  there 
was  a  resemblance  between  that  face  and  this ;  and 
the  child's  name  was  the  same,  too. 

But  no ;  it  could  not  be ;  and  she  banished  the  sus- 
picion from  her  as  quickly  as  it  came.  It  w^as  only  a 
^'singular  coincidence,"  she  told  herself. 

"Virgie,"  she  repeated,  trying,  but  in  vain,  to  re- 
sume her  light  tone,  "I  suppose  that  stands  for  Vir- 
ginia. Well,  my  little  maiden,  do  you  know  how 
kind  your  mother  has  been  to  me  while  I  have  been 
so  ill?" 

''Mamma  is  always  kind  to  everybody,"  w^as  the 
grave  response,  and  Virgie  wondered  to  see  her  in 
this  strange,  self-contained  mood.  She  was  usually 
very  free  and  confiding  wuth  every  one. 

"What  a  loyal-hearted  little  girl  1"  laughed  Lady 
Linton;  "how  thankful  I  am  that  you  were  spared  for 
her  and  she  to  you  from  that  dreadful  accident.  Your 
papa,  too,  must  be  a  very  happy  man  to  know  that 
both  his  treasures  are  safe." 

"I  haven't  any  papa."  said  Virgie,  with  a  soft 
little  sigh. 

A  painful  thrill  shot  through  Lady  Linton's  nerves 


m  TOEEADS  GATHERED  UE 

at  this,  and  she  darted  another  look  at  the  child's 
mother. 

It  was  very  strange!  She  wore  no  widow's  weeds, 
she  was  not  even  in  black!  Instead,  she  was  looking 
very  lovely  in  her  stylish  traveling  suit  of  dark  gray, 
with  a  knot  of  pale  blue  ribbon  at  her  throat  and  an- 
other in  her  hat. 

''Yes,  indeed,"  the  mother  interrupted,  not  liking 
to  have  the  child  questioned  further,  "we  are  very 
grateful  for  having  escaped  such  danger.  We  came 
to  tell  you  that  we  are  going  away  to-day,  though  I 
would  gladly  remain,  if  I  could  be  of  use  to  anyone, 
and  duty  did  not  call  me  elsewhere." 

'To-day!"  exclaimed  Lady  Linton,  in  surprise.  "I 
shall  be  very  sorry  to  part  with  you,"  and  her  under 
lip  quivered,  for  at  that  instant  she  thought  of  the 
■debt  she  owed  the  beautiful  woman. 

Virgie  bowed.  She  was  laboring  under  a  fearful 
constraint.  She  would  gladly  have  avoided  this  last 
interview,  but  something  that  impelled  her  to  come, 
if  for  nothing  more  than  to  let  her  ladyship  see  her 
brother's  child,  even  though  she  was  unconscious  of 
the  relationship  existing  between  them. 

"Is  your  maid  doing  well?"  Lady  Linton  inquired, 
after  a  somewhat  awkward  pause. 

"Thanks;  yes,  much  better  than  I  had  hoped  she 
would.  She  feels  quite  able  to  travel,  is  rather  home- 
sick, and  longs  to  get  away  from  this  dreary  place." 

"It  is  a  lonely  place.  I,  too,  shall  be  glad  to  rejoin 
my  friends.  I  expect  someone  will  come  to  me  to- 
morrow, and  the  physician  thinks  that  by  the  end  of 
another  week,  I  may  also  be  able  to  get  away.  Oh, 
must  you  go?"  the  invalid  concluded,  regretfully,  as 
S/irgie  arose  to  leave. 


THKEADS  GATHERED  UP  57 


"Yes,  my  carriage  will  come  for  us  in  half  an  hour/' 
she  replied,  glancing  at  her  watch.  "I  am  glad  to 
leave  you  so  comfortable,  and  I  trust  nothing  will 
occur  to  retard  your  full  recovery — that  your  visit  to 
this  country  may  not  be  spoiled  by  this  accident." 

Lady  Linton  looked  up  astonished,  as  these  cold, 
measured  words  fell  upon  her  ears. 

Virgie  had  not  meant  to  speak  so  frigidly,  but  her 
ladyship's  reference  to  her  '^friends"  made  her  sur- 
mise instantly  that  she  was  speaking  of  her  brother 
and  his  family,  whom  she  believed  she  had  seen  at 
Niagara,  and  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  that 
she  could  control  herself  at  all. 

"Surely  you  are  not  going  to  leave  me  thus?"  said 
the  sick  woman,  reproachfully,  ''without  even  allow- 
ing me  to  clasp  your  hand ;  you,  who  have  done  so 
much  for  me,  who  have  twice  saved  my  life.  Come 
here  and  let  me  kiss  you  good-by — let  me  tell  you 
that  I  shall  never  cease  to  think  of  you  with  gratitude 
and  love.  Why,  you  have  never  yet  told  me  your 
name !  You  must  not  go  without  telling  me  who  you 
are,  so  that  I  can  inform  my  brother  and  friends  who 
was  my  deliverer  from  a  dreadful  death — who  was 
my  kind  nurse  during  my  critical  illness." 

Virgie  was  as  pale  as  a  marble  statue  now;  she 
could  bear  no  more,  and  she  resolved  that  she  would 
tell  her  the  truth.  She  should  tell  her  brother, 
any  anyone  else  she  chose,  who  had  saved  her,  if  she 
wished  to  do  so. 

"Run  away,  Virgie,  and  help  Mina  to  get  ready," 
she  said  to  her  daughter,  "and  I  will  come  pres- 
ently;" then,  as  the  child  obeyed,  she  turned  back,  and 
stood  tall  and  straight  before  the  woman  who  had 
wronged  her. 


58  THEEADS  GATHEKED  UP 

*'Lady  Linton,"  she  began,  in  low,  intense  tones  that 
smote  her  like  a  whip,  and  made  her  shiver  with 
dread  at  what  might  follow,  *'it  is  true,  I  suppose, 
that  I  saved  your  life  at  the  time  of  the  disaster:  it 
is  true,  also,  that  I  have  tried  to  make  you  comfortable 
during  your  illness;  but  I  have  not  done  it  to  win 
your  gratitude  or  to  oppress  you  with  any  sense  of 
obligation.  I  did  it,  first,  from  a  sense  of  duty,  as  I 
would  have  performed  the  same  service  for  any 
stranger  in  trouble;  and,  second,  because  I  would 
not  allow  myself  to  turn  coldly  from  you  in  the  hour 
of  danger  and  distress,  because  of  a  feeling  of  enmity 
toward  you  " 

"Enmity?"  interrupted  her  listener,  with  pale  lips, 
and  putting  out  her  hand  as  if  to  ward  off  a  blow. 

**Yes,  enmity,  for  my  heart  was  full  of  it  when  you 
told  me  who  you  were.  If  I  had  listened  to  the  evil 
that  surged  through  my  brain  on  that  dreadful  night, 
if  I  had  yielded  to  a  spirit  of  revenge  for  past  injuries, 
I  should  have  turned  my  back  upon  you  when  you 
called  upon  me  to  save  you,  telling  myself  that  you 
deserved  no  better  fate.  But  I  believe  I  am  a  Chris- 
tian, a  disciple  of  One  who  commanded  us  to  *love 
our  enemies,  to  do  good  to  those  who  despitefully  use 
us,'  and  I  wished  to  conquer  that  enmity,  to  subdue 
myself,  to  return  good  for  evil ;  and  that  is  why  I 
tried  to  save  you  then,  and  afterward  served  you  as 
tenderly  as  I  would  have  served  my  own  mother." 

"Why — why!  what  are  you  saying?  I  do  not  under- 
stand," incoherently  cried  the  startled  woman,  as  she 
gazed  wildly  into  that  beautiful  face  before  her,  and 
began  to  realize  something  of  the  terrible  truth  yet 
to  come. 

"I  did  not  mean  that  you  should  understand,"  Vir- 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP. 


59 


resumed,  speaking  more  gravely.  "1  did  not 
mean  that  you  should  ever  know  to  whom  you  owed 
your  life.  I  meant  to  do  what  good  I  could  for  you, 
and  then  go  quietly  away,  taking  with  me  as  my  only 
reward,  the  consciousness  of  a  duty  faithfully  per- 
formed. I  do  not  know  why  I  have  spoken  thus  even 
now,  but  the  words  seemed  forced  from  me  by  a 
power  beyond  my  control.  Perhaps  it  is  because  you 
asked  me  to  kiss  you,  to  clasp  your  hand  in  friendly 
farewell,  when  I  was  conscious  that  you  would  wish 
me  to  do  neither,  if  you  knew  who  I  am,  that  you 
would  shrink  from  me,  repel  me,  perhaps  even  hate 
me  more  than  you  have  ever  done.  I  see  that  you 
begin  to  realize  who  I  am.  Yes.  I  am  Virginia 
Alexander,  the  woman  whom  your  brother  once  loved, 
for  I  believe  even  now  that  he  did  love  me  then — and 
who  worshiped  him,  who  would  have  devoted  her  life 
to  his  happiness,  and  considered  herself  blessed  in  so 
doing." 

Lady  Linton  had  fallen  back  upon  her  pillow  as 
Virgie  uttered  that  well  remembered  name,  and  now 
lay,  as  if  transfixed,  gazing  upon  her  with  a  look  of 
amazement  mingled  with  something  of  terror. 

A  suspicion  of  the  truth  began  to  dawn  upon  her 
when  the  child  had  told  her  name;  it  had  been 
strengthened  when  she  had  so  innocently  said  she  had 
no  papa,  and  it  was  now  confirmed  by  Virgie's  open 
declaration. 

The  knowledge  almost  paralyzed  her;  she  could 
neither  move  nor  speak;  she  had  no  power  but  to 
stare  with  a  helpless,  appalled  look  at  that  perfect 
figure,  that  pale,  beautiful,  high-bred  face,  as  she 
realized,  at  last,  the  enormity  of  the  wrong  of  which 
she  had  been  guilty. 


60 


raEEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


"You  have  seen  my  little  daughter,"  Virgie  re- 
sumed, after  a  moment,  with  a  tender,  even  pathetic 
inflection;  "she  is  also  your  brother's  child,  and  the 
heiress  of  Heathdale  

"Does  that  offend  you?"  she  asked,  as  Lady  Linton 
shrank  again,  as  if  from  a  blow,  at  these  words.  "It 
is  to  be  regretted,  but  it  is  a  fact  which  nothing  can 
change,  and  she  will  one  day  claim  her  own,  even 
though  her  mother  is  no  longer  the  wife  of  her 
father,  and  I  trust  that  she  will  then  do  honor  to  the 
name  and  position  which  she  will  assume.  You  may 
rest  assured  that  I  shall  attend  most  faithfully  to  her 
education,  for  it  has  been,  and  still  shall  be,  my  chief 
object  in  life  to  make  her  worthy  in  every  way  to  be 
received  as  a  representative  of  the  'ancient  and  hon- 
ored house  of  Heath/  Pardon  me  if  I  seem  ironical," 
iVirgie  interposed,  a  slight  smile  flitting  over  her  lips 
as  she  quoted  this  sentence,  which  had  been  burned 
into  her  brain  so  long  ago;  "but  I  cannot  forget  the 
cruel  things  which  you  wrote  to  your  friend,  Mrs. 
Farnum,  ten  years  ago.  Do  you  blame  me  for  refusing 
to  clasp,  in  pretended  friendship,  the  hand  that  penned 
them?  or  for  shrinking  from  the  kisses  of  one  who  so 
scorned  and  mocked  me ;  who  oflfered  me  money,  as  if 
my  honor  was  a  thing  to  be  bought,  my  wretchedness 
and  despair  something  to  be  alleviated  with  gold? 
You  wrote  of  me  is  'that  person' — 'that  girl,'  as  if  I 
belonged  to  a  lower  order  of  humanity;  but,  madam, 
my  grandmother  was  an  English  woman  like  your- 
self, and  perchance — though  I  assume  nothing  of  the 
kind — there  is  as  good  blood  in  my  veins  as  in  your 
own.  But,"  with  a  weary  sigh,  "perhaps  I  am  wrong 
to  recriminate  thus.  I  had  no  intention  of  saying 
aught  like  this  when  I  came  to  you.    I  am  afraid  I 


ffHKEADS  GATHEKED  UP,  61 

have  been  inconsiderate  of  your  weakness,  but  my 
words  have  come  unbidden.  I  wish  you  no  ill.  I  think 
I  have  proved  that  during  the  past  week.  I  wish  your 
brother  no  ill,  if  he  is  happy  in  his  present  relation; 
far  be  it  from  me  to  wish  him  to  suffer  as  I  have  suf- 
fered, although  he  has  done  me  the  greatest  wrong 
it  is  possible  for  a  man  to  do  a  woman.  It  is  a  strange 
freak  of  fate,  Lady  Linton,  this  meeting  between  you 
and  me,  and  yet  I  believe  I  do  not  regret  that  we  have 
seen  and  known  each  other;  it  has  served  to  show 
you  what  the  woman,  whom  your  brother  wooed  and 
w^on,  is  like ;  that  although  she  may  not  have  belonged 
to  the  titled  aristocracy  of  a  kingdom,  she  was  at  least 
a  true-hearted  daughter  of  a  grand  republic,  and  in 
no  way  his  inferior  in  character  or  intellect.  We  may 
never  meet  again,  and  we  may;  I  cannot  tell;  but 
some  day  the  wrong  that  has  been  done  me  will  be 
righted  through  the  justice  which  must  and  shall  be 
rendered  to  my  daughter." 

As  she  ceased  Virgie  bowed  gravely  and  thea 
turned  and  quietly  left  the  room,  leaving  Lady  Linton 
more  astonished  and  browbeaten — though  it  had  been 
done  in  the  most  courteous  and  dignified  way  imagi- 
nable— than  she  had  ever  been  before.  For  several 
minutes  she  sat  staring,  in  a  dazed  way,  at  the  door 
which  had  been  so  softly  shut  upon  that  graceful,  re- 
treating form,  and  almost  feeling  as  if  the  whole  in- 
terview must  have  been  some  hallucination  of  the 
brain. 

That  lovely  woman — proud,  beautiful,  cultivated — 
with  that  magnificent  form  and  carriage,  the  ''low- 
born girl!"  whom  she  supposed  her  brother  had  mar- 
ried !  It  seemed  impossible !  She  was  so  entirely  differ- 
ent from  what  she  had  conceived  her  to  be. 


62 


THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


Why,  this  brilliant  creature  was  fitted  to  grace  a 
throne — to  shine  a  star  in  the  highest  circles  of  even 
her  own  country,  of  which  she  was  so  arrogantly 
proud,  and  she,  by  her  cunning  plotting,  her  falsehood 
and  calumny,  had  debarred  her  from  her  home,  from 
all  the  rights  which  legally  belonged  to  her;  she  had 
brought  shame  and  dishonor  upon  her,  broken  her 
heart,  and,  in  so  doing,  had  made  her  own  brother's 
home  desolate,  his  life  almost  a  barren  waste. 

That  beautiful  child,  too — that  dainty,  graceful, 
golden-haired  fairy,  with  her  mother's  delicate  fea- 
tures and  her  father's  eyes ;  yes,  they  were  strikingly 
like  Sir  William's  own — she  had  tried  to  cheat  her 
out  of  her  heritage,  and  thus  the  grand  old  house  at 
Heathdale  was  childless  and  was  likely  to  remain  so 
until  this  brave,  determined  woman  came  to  demand 
justice,  and  to  claim  for  her  daughter  the  respect  and 
honor  that  had  been  denied  her  as  a  wife. 

She  knew  that  she  would  do  it  if  she  lived;  those 
quiet,  resolute  tones  still  rang  in  her  ears,  and  she  fell 
back  upon  her  pillows  weak  and  faint,  heart-sick  and 
terrified,  and,  for  the  moment,  filled  with  remorse  for 
the  sin  of  the  past. 

She  fully  realized  at  last  the  enormity  of  her  treach- 
ery and  wickedness — the  hardness  of  her  heart,  the 
selfishness  of  her  nature. 

She  had  been  utterly  heartless  when  she  had  at- 
tempted to  crush  the  lovely  girl  whom  her  brother 
had  won,  and  now  the  basely  wronged  woman  had 
turned  and  heaped  coals  of  fire  upon  her  head.  She 
had  nobly  put  aside  all  sense  of  injury,  and,  knowing 
full  well  that  she  was  serving  an  enemy,  had  saved 
her  life  and  then  given  her  kindest  attention  and  ten- 
derest  care  during  her  illness. 


THKEADS  GATHERED  UP  U 


Lady  Linton  knew  that  she  should  carry  a  bur- 
dened heart  to  her  grave  on  account  of  it. 

Fired  with  sudden  impulse,  she  started  up  and 
sharply  rang  her  bell. 

The  woman  of  the  house  came  to  her  almost  im- 
mediately. 

"Where  is  she?"  demanded  the  invalid,  wildly. 

"Who?"  asked  her  attendant,  surprised  by  her  ex- 
cessive agitation. 

"The  lady  who  has  been  so  kind  to  me.  Call  her 
back !  Call  her  at  once !" 

"She  has  gone.  The  carnage  has  just  driven  away; 
from  the  cottage  where  she  stopped." 

Lady  Linton  sank  back  again  with  a  groan. 

She  was  too  late.  She  had  meant  to  do  a  good 
deed.  Under  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  and  with 
a  feeling  of  gratitude  animating  her,  overcome  with 
admiration  for  a  rarely  beautiful  woman,  and  a  sense 
of  superiority;  with  the  vision  of  that  lovely,  dark- 
eyed  child  still  before  her,  she  had  resolved  to  make 
a  full  confession  of  all  her  wrong-doing,  try  to  effect 
a  reconciliation  between  those  two  who,  she  knew, 
still  devotedly  loved  each  other,  and  thus  atone,  as 
far  as  was  possible,  for  the  sin  she  had  committed. 

But  the  opportunity  was  gone,  and  when  she  came 
to  think  of  it  more  calmly  afterward,  she  began  to  up- 
braid herself  for  her  momentary  weakness,  and  to  be 
glad  that  she  had  not  committed  herself. 

Her  good  angel  fled,  her  better  nature  was  over- 
come, and  she  grew  harder,  more  bitter  than  before. 

"There  will  be  some  way  out  of  it,"  she  muttered, 
as  she  recalled  Virgie*s  threat  to  claim  her  child's 
heritage,  "I  will  fight  it  out  to  the  bitter  end.  I  am 
glad  I  did  not  make  a  fool  of  myself." 


154 


OTBEADS  GATHERED  US 


CHAPTER  Vn. 
After  eight  years. 

Eight  years  have  passed  since  Lady  Linton,  with 
her  son  and  daughter,  her  cousin  William  Heath,  and 
his  family,  visited  America ;  since  -'she  so  nearly  fell 
a  victim  to  that  railway  disaster,  and  was  rescued 
by  a  woman  whom  she  had  hated,  whom  she  now 
hated  a  hundred-fold. 

It  is  a  beautiful  winter  morning,  and  in  the  sunny, 
elegantly  appointed  dining-room  at  Heathdale  an  in- 
teresting group  of  five  persons  is  gathered  around  the 
bountifully  spread  breakfast  table. 

At  one  end  sits  Sir  William  Heath,  a  handsome,  dig- 
nified gentleman  a  little  above  forty,  yet  hardly  look- 
ing that,  for  the  fleeting  years  have  touched  him  but 
lightly,  in  spite  of  the  great  sorrow  which  has  lain 
so  heavily  upon  his  heart  and  robbed  his  life  and  his 
home  of  its  chief  joys — the  love  and  presence  of  a 
fond,  true  wife,  the  patter  of  little  feet,  and  the  happy 
laughter  and  merry  chatter  of  childish  voices. 

Opposite  him,  and  engaged  in  serving  coffee,  is  his 
sister,  Lady  Linton,  who  has  changed  greatly  during 
the  last  eight  years.  She  has  grown  old  and  wrinkled, 
and  her  face  has  hardened,  if  that  could  be  possible. 
There  is  a  cynical  expression  about  her  thin  mouth, 
and  her  eyes  are  cold  and  critical  in  their  expression, 
excepting  when  they  rest  upon  her  children,  who  now 
sit  beside  her,  one  at  her  right,  the  other  at  her  left 
hand. 


THEEADS  GATHEKED  UP  65 


Percy  Linton  had  done  credit  to  the  promise  of  his 
youth,  and  is  a  fine  young  man  of  twenty-one,  honest, 
noble,  and  thoughtful  beyond  his  years.  He  is  lately 
home  from  Oxford,  where  he  achieved  great  honors, 
and  is  now  planning  to  return  to  the  neglected  and 
impoverished  estate  which  has  father's  prodigality 
nearly  ruined,  with  the  intention  of  reclaiming  it  and 
restoring  it  to  something  of  the  thrift  and  prosperity 
for  which  it  was  noted  under  the  care  of  his  grand- 
father, for  whom  he  is  named,  and  whose  mantle  seems 
to  have  fallen  upon  him. 

His  mother  is  not  at  all  in  sympathy  with  these  plans. 
She  wishes  her  son  to  adopt  a  public  career.  She  still 
has  strong  hopes  that  he  will  fall  heir  to  her  brother's 
title  and  property,  in  which  case  there  would  be  no 
need  of  his  spending  the  best  years  of  his  life  in  striv- 
ing to  redeem  a  heavily-mortgaged  estate. 

Sir  William,  however,  heartily  approves  of  his  noble 
resolve,  and  promises  to  assist  him  in  every  possible 
way,  and,  with  this  encouragement,  he  has  decided  to 
devote  himself  to  Linton  Grange. 

Lillian  Linton  is  a  brilliant  and  beautiful  girl  of 
nineteen.  She  is  a  clear  brunette,  with  a  lovely  bloom 
on  her  cheeks,  vividly  red  lips,  dark  eyes  and  hair. 
Her  features  are  delicate  and  regular;  she  is  tall  and 
finely  formed,  attractive  in  manner,  but  in  disposition 
and  temperament  she  is  much  like  her  mother. 

The  remaining  individual  of  the  group  was  Rupert 
Hamilton,  Sir  William  Heath's  ward,  and  the  child 
of  his  dear  friend,  Major  Hamilton,  who  died  several 
years  ago.  He  is  now  a  young  man  of  twenty,  tall 
and  stalwart  in  form,  with  a  well-shaped  head  set 
proudly  upon  a  pair  of  square,  broad  shoulders.  He 
has  a  handsome  and  intelligent  face,  with  a  pair  of  full, 


66  THREADS  GATHERED  UP. 


wirie-brown  eyes,  which  always  meet  yours  with"  a 
clear,  steady  gaze,  that  proclaims  a  noble  character 
and  a  clear  conscience. 

His  nose  is  something  after  the  Roman  type,  his 
mouth  firm  and  strong,  yet  when  he  smiles,  as  sweet 
and  expressive  as  a  woman's.  One  would  know  at  a 
glance  that  he  was  true  and  generous,  kind  and  genial. 

One  could  perceive  also  that  Sir  William  loved 
him  like  a  son  by  the  affectionate  glances  which  he 
bent  upon  him,  by  his  answering  smile  whenever 
their  eyes  met,  and  the  confidential  tone  which  he  used 
when  addressing  him. 

The  young  heir  to  half  a  million  pounds  thought 
his  guardian  the  noblest  man  in  the  world,  and  he 
would  have  deemed  no  service  too  difficult  or  dis- 
agreeable to  perform  for  him. 

He  knew  something  of  the  trouble  of  his  early  life, 
that  he  had  been  married  and  parted  from  his  wife, 
although  he  had  never  heard  her  name  spoken,  or 
asked  a  single  question  upon  the  subject,  and  he  had 
always  felt  a  peculiar  tenderness  and  sympathy  for 
him  on  this  account. 

The  fact  of  Sir  William^s  marriage  was  no  longer  a 
secret,  although  Lady  Linton  had  tried  every  way  to 
conceal  it.  It  was  not  very  generally  known,  how- 
ever, even  now;  but  in  his  own  household  and  among 
his  intimate  friends  it  was  understood  that  he  had 
married  a  beautiful  woman  while  on  his  first  visit  to 
America,  and  that  some  cruel  misunderstanding  had 
resulted  in  a  separation.  He  had  insisted  upon  this 
explanation,  for  hope  was  not  yet  quite  dead  in  his 
heart  that  some  time  he  might  find  Virgie,  effect  a 
reconciliation,  and  bring  her  home  to  Heathdale. 

Those  who  knew  that  he  was  free  to  marry  again. 


THEE ADS  GATHEKED  UP 


67 


if  he  chose,  sometimes  urged  him  to  do  so  and  not 
allow  his  name  to  become  extinct. 

But  he  always  replied,  with  a  heavy  sigh: 

have  a  vvife  already,  and  some  time,  please 
Heaven,  I  shall  find  her.  No  other  shall  ever  be  mis- 
tress of  Heathdale  while  I  live." 

This  reply  never  failed  to  arouse  the  fiercest  anger 
in  Lady  Linton,  who  grew  more  bitter  with  every  year 
tow^ard  the  woman  whom  she  had  wronged,  and  who 
had  repaid  her  injuries  with  such  kindness  and  Chris- 
tian charity  to  her  everlasting  shame  and  humiliation., 

"  'Wife,'  indeed she  once  retorted.  "A  woman  who 
divorced  herself  from  you  in  the  way  she  did,  cooll)^ 
severing  the  bonds,  which  you  seem  still  to  hold  in 
such  reverence,  is  not  worthy  the  name." 

"But  I  loved  her,  Miriam — I  love  her  still ;  I  shall 
be  true  to  her  till  I  die,"  her  brother  answered.  "Our 
separation  has  been  the  strangest  thing  in  the  world — • 
it  is  wholly  incomprehensible  to  me;  but  if  I  ever  find 
enemy  we  have  been  the  victims  of  treachery,  let  the 
enemy  who  has  meddled  beware!" 

Twice  during  these  last  eight  years  he  had  crossed 
the  Atlantic  and  renewed  his  search  for  Virgie,  but 
without  obtaining  the  least  clew  of  her  whereabouts, 
and  so  he  returned  again  to  his  home. 

He  never  intruded  his  sorrow  upon  any  one;  indeed 
his  life  flow^ed  along  so  calmly  and  smoothly  that  a 
stranger  might  have  supposed  that  he  had  remained 
single  from  choice,  although  there  was  a  wistful  sad- 
ness in  his  eyes  that  impressed  every  one. 

Of  late  he  had  interested  himself  considerably  in 
politics  and  been  in  Parliament,  having  been  returned 
for  his  borough  several  times. 

But  to  return  to  the  breakfast-table,  from  which 


m  THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


we  have  roved,  and  where  an  animated  discussion 
was  in  progress,  together  with  the  disposition  of  the 
many  tempting  viands. 

"1  am  sure  I  do  not  know  what  I  am  going  to  do 
without  you  during  the  next  six  months,  Rupert," 
Sir  William  remarked.  "Here  I  was  anticipating 
having  you  all  to  myself  for  awhile,  after  you  got 
through  school,  and  now  you  want  to  go  roving  the 
first  thing." 

"Yes,  I  do  want  to  see  a  little  of  the  world  I  live  in, 
I  confess,  before  I  choose  my  profession;  and  you 
have  told  me  so  many  interesting  things  about  Amer- 
ica, and  American  people,  that  I  have  a  curiosity  to 
see  the  country  and  mingle  with  the  people  myself. 
,Why  can't  you  come  with  me,  Uncle  Will?  then  we 
need  not  be  separated,"  concluded  the  young  man, 
wishfully. 

"I  should  be  glad  to,  my  boy,  but  my  time  and  at- 
tention will  have  to  be  given  to  the  interests  of  the 
borough  for  this  year,"  responded  his  guardian.  "The 
troubles  in  Ireland,  too,  bid  fair  to  be  pretty  serious, 
and  every  true-hearted  Englishman  ought  to  give 
careful  thought  to  the  questions  that  are  arising  in 
connection  with  them." 

"I  hope  that  I  am  a  true-hearted  Englishman,  but 
since  I  cannot  cast  my  vote  until  next  year,  I  pre- 
sume you  will  not  consider  me  disloyal  for  running 
away  for  a  little  while,"  Rupert  said,  earnestly. 

"No,  indeed,  I  want  you  to  go,  since  you  desire  it 
so  much,  and,  considering  all  things,  this  is  the  best 
time  for  you  to  go.  Let  me  see;  it  is  a  Raymond  ex- 
cursion to  California  that  you  have  decided  to  join 
after  reaching  New  York,  I  believe." 

"Yes,  the  circular  which  Raymond  has  issued  is  so 


THPiEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


69 


attractive  I  could  not  resist  it.  I  feel  sure  that  by  join- 
ing this  party  I  shall  see  more  of  the  country,  in  less 
time  and  to  better  advantage,  than  I  could  to  travel  by 
myself  and  lay  out  my  own  route." 

"Will  you  be  with  a  large  party,  Rupert?"  Lillian 
asker,  her  color  deepening  and  a  rather  anxious  ex- 
pression in  her  eyes. 

Lillian  Linton  had  learned  to  love  Rupert  Hamil- 
ton with  a  strong  and  passionate  affection,  and  this 
attachment  had  been  most  unwisely  fostered  by  her 
mother,  who  was  still  determined  that  her  idolized 
daughter  should  marry  her  brother's  wealthy  young 
ward,  and  the  heir  to  still  greater  prosperity  and 
honor,  if  it  was  possible  to  accomplish  it. 

do  not  know  how  large  the  party  will  be,  Lillian; 
probably  there  w^ill  be  quite  a  number  in  it,"  he  an- 
swered. 

"All  gentlemen?" 

"Oh,  no,  I  judge  not  from  some  hints  that  are  given 
regarding  the  equipments  necessary  for  the  journey; 
for  articles  which  only  ladies  require  are  mentioned  in 
them." 

Lillian  lost  some  of  her  brilliant  color,  and  her  eyes 
drooped  at  this  reply. 

"But  do  you  like  the  idea  of  mingling  so  freely  vvith 
strange  people?"  she  asked,  with  a  slight  curl  of  her 
red  lips.   Americans  too,"  she  added,  slightingly. 

"Why,  Lillian,  are  you  so  prejudiced  against  our 
neighbors  over  the  sea?"  exclaimed  the  young  man,  in 
surprise. 

The  girl  shrugged  her  graceful  shoulders  and  arched 
her  pretty  brows,  but  deigned  no  reply.  The  act,  how- 
ever, expressed  far  better  than  words  could  have  done 


7§ 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


Iier  contempt  for  the  people  of  whom  they  had  been 
speaking. 

Percy  glanced  up  at  her  with  a  roguish  twinkle  in 

his  eyes. 

"Rupert  will  doubtless  meet  some  fair  damsel 
among  his  party  whose  bright  eyes  and  charming 
smiles  will  prove  too  much  for  his  susceptible  nature, 
and,  before  we  know  it,  our  loyal  Englishman  will 
have  forsworn  his  colors  and  joined  the  great  repub- 
lic," he  said,  to  tantalize  his  sister. 

"Oh,  Percy,  how  little  faith  you  have  in  me," 
laughed  Rupert.  "Of  course  I  expect  there  will  be 
some  fair  damsels  in  my  party,  but  doubtless  they 
will  be  so  closely  guarded  by  jealous  parents  and  vigi- 
lant chaperons  that  no  young  man  of  my  age  will  have 
an  opportunity  to  play  the  agreeable  to  them," 

Neither  of  the  young  men  observed  the  spasm 
of  pain  that  contracted  Sir  William's  brow  at  these 
remarks,  nor  the  hardening  of  Lady  Linton's  face,  as 
they  thought  of  that  episode  in  the  life  of  the  former, 
some  eighteen  years  previous,  while  he  was  travel- 
ing in  America. 

"I  trust  that  Rupert  will  not  be  beguiled  into  any 
discretions,  no  matter  how  attractive  the  ladies  of 
his  party  may  be;  he  owes  it  to  his  self-respect  to 
choose  his  wife  from  his  own  countrywomen,"  re- 
marked her  ladyship,  with  a  swift  glance  at  her  daugh- 
ter, whose  eyes  were  fixed  upon  her  plate,  as  if  she 
had  no  interest  in  anything  but  the  morsel  that 
she  was  diligently  reducing  to  mince-meat  with  her 
knife. 

"Are  the  ladies  of  America  more  artfua  in  that  re- 
spect than  those  of  any  other  nationality,  Lady  Lin- 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP. 


ton?"  asked  the  young  man,  innocently,  but  with  a 
quizzical  smile. 

"I  am  happy  to  say  that  I  know  but  very  little 
about  them,  but  what  I  do  know  has  not  served  to 
prepossess  mie  in  their  favor,"  was  the  sharp  retort 
of  her  ladyship. 

"Miriam,  I  Avill  trouble  you  for  another  cup  of  cof- 
fee," said  Sir  William.,  quietly,  but  in  a  tone  Vvhich 
warned  his  sister  that  she  had  better  not  pursue  the 
conversation  further  on  that  line. 

Then  he  turned  to  his  nephew,  with  a  genial,  smile, 
saying : 

'T  only  wish  Perc}'  had  not  been  in  quite  such  a 
hurry  to  settle  at  the  Grange;  I  would  really  like  to 
have  you  run  over  to  the  United  States  with  Rupert 
for  a  little  holiday  before  you  begin  work." 

''Thank  you.  Uncle  Will ;  but.  truly,  I  feel  that  it 
would  not  be  right  to  take  either  the  time  or  the 
money  for  such  a  journey.  Isly  duty  plainly  points 
to  the  earliest  possible  restoration  of  my  fallen  house/' 
the  young  man  answered,  graveh^ 

'T  wish  that  every  young  man  possessed  as  con- 
scientious a  regard  for  duty  as  you  do,  Percy.  I 
confess  I  honor  you  for  your  desire  to  clear  the 
Grange  of  all  incumbrance,  though  I  would  gladly 
be  your  banker  if  you  would  consent  to  accompany 
Rupert." 

''You  have  already  been  my  banker  to  such  an 
extent  that  I  do  not  feel  willing  to  draw  upon  you 
any  more.  I  am  very  grateful  for  all  your  kindness. 
Uncle  Will,  but  indeed  my  self-respect  demands  that 
I  should  begin  to  depend  upon  my  own  exertions;  so 
I  shall  wed  myself  to  the  home  of  my  ancestors  until 
every  debt  is  paid  and  the  glory  of  the  days  of  my- 


72  THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


grandfather  is  restored,"  Percy  concluded,  smilingly, 
but  with  a  firmness  which  plainly  told  that  his  mind 
was  made  up  regarding  the  course  he  was  to 
pursue. 

"I  consider  it  a  senseless,  quixotic  notion;  I  think 
you  had  much  better  sell  the  place  and  realize  what 
you  can  from  it,  rather  than  spend  the  best  of  your 
life  in  trying  to  pay  debts  that  other  people  have 
contracted,"  said  his  mother,  resentfully. 

*'Sell  Linton  Grange,"  exclaimed  the  young  man, 
aghast.  "Why,  mother,  where  is  your  loyalty  to  the 
home  of  more  than  a  dozen  generations?" 

have  suffered  too  much  at  Linton  Grange  to  feel 
very  much  loyalty  for  bundles  of  mortgages,  promis- 
sory notes,  etc.,"  retorted  Lady  Linton,  a  deep  flush 
suffusing  her  face. 

"Percy  is  right,  Miriam,  so  do  not  try  to  discour- 
age him.  It  would,  indeed,  be  a  pity  to  sacrifice  such 
a  grand  old  place,  while  there  was  the  least  hope  of 
reclaiming  it.  It  will,  no  doubt,  be  up-hill  work  for 
the  first  few  years,  but,  with  the  spirit  which  ani- 
mates him,  I  am  sure  he  will  succeed,  and  his  reward 
will  be  sweet,"  Sir  William  said,  heartily,  as  he  arose 
from  the  table.  Then  turning  to  his  nephew,  he  con- 
tinued: "I  will  ride  over  to  the  Grange  with  you  in 
a  couple  of  hours,  and  we  will  consider  further  the 
measures  you  proposed  to  me  yesterday." 


THKEADS  GATHEKED.  UP, 


73 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

A  GLIMPSE  AT  LILLIAN  LINTON's  HEART. 

^'Rupert,  have  you  seen  my  orchids  since  they; 
bloomed?"  LilHan  asked  of  her  uncle's  ward,  as  the 
famxily  were  leaving  the  dining-room, 

"No.    Are  you  indulging  in  orchids,  Lillian?" 

''Yes;  I  am  wild  over  them.  Uncle  Will  gave  me 
several  varieties  on  my  last  birthday,  and  they  are 
just  doing  their  best  for  me  now.  Come  into  the  con- 
servatory and  let  me  show  them  to  you." 

''All  right.  I  have  a  fancy  for  the  pretty  things, 
too,"  replied  the  young  man  as  he  followed  the  fair 
girl  toward  the  hot-house,  and  thinking,  as  he  did  so, 
how  lovely  and  graceful  the  girl  was  in  her  perfectly 
fitting  morning  robe  of  garnet  cashmere  trimmed  with 
swansdown,  and  which  harmonized  delightfully  with 
her  brilliant  complexion. 

She  took  him  to  a  sunny  corner  of  the  conservatory 
which  Sir  William  had  set  apart  and  fitted  up  ex- 
pressly to  gratify  this  extravagant  whim  of  his  pretty 
niece,  and  where  the  young  lady  had  really  displayed 
much  taste  and  appreciation  of  the  rare  things  in 
which  she  was  interested,  both  as  to  choice  and  ar- 
rangement. 

They  spent  half  an  hour  or  more  in  examining  the 
beautiful  things,  and  Rupert  became  almost  as  enthu- 
siastic as  Lillian  herself  over  them. 

But  she  had  no  notion  of  allowing  even  her  favorite 
flowers  to  monopolize  all  his  attention.   She  had  had 


74  TOREADS  GATHERED  UP 


a  far  more  important  object  in  view  in  bringmg  him 
there  with  her. 

*'So  you  are  really  determined  on  taking  this  Ameri- 
can trip,  Rupert?"  she  remarked,  as  they  paused  be- 
fore a  lovely  arethusa  in  full  bloom,  from  which  she 
broke  its  fairest  blossom,  and,  bending  forward,  fast- 
ened it  to  the  lapel  of  his  coat. 

"Oh,  Lillian,  what  a  pity  to  break  the  pretty  thing!" 
he  said,  regretfully. 

"Not  for  you,"  she  answered,  looking  up  at  him 
with  a  smile,  and  flushing  as  she  met  those  frank 
brown  eyes  that  were  regarding  her  with  unmistaka- 
ble admiration.  "You  would  be  welcome  to  more  if 
you  wished." 

"You  are  very  generous,"  he  returned,  regarding  the 
flower  thoughtfully,  and  wondering  what  made  her 
blush  so  when  with  him.  "But  about  my  trip.  Yes, 
I  have  decided  that  I  will  go." 

"When?" 

"I  sail  just  a  week  from  to-day.  I  wrote  yesterday 
to  engage  my  passage." 

"So  soon?"  Lillian  cried,  catching  her  breath,  and 
losing  all  her  brilliant  color. 

"Yes ;  if  I  am  to  join  that  excursion  to  the  Pacific 
coast  on  the  12th  of  next  month,  I  must  be  olf." 

"The  house  will  seem  like  a  convent  when  you  are 
gone;  you  are  the  life  and  soul  of  everything  here," 
said  the  girl,  tears  starting  to  her  eyes. 

"Thank  you;  I  had  no  idea  that  I  was  of  so  much 
importance,"  he  returned,  lightly. 

"Didn't  you?"  she  asked,  sweeping  him  a  coy  look 
from  beneath  her  long,  dark  lashes.  "You  have  some- 
thing to  learn  yet,  then.    But  how  long  will  you  be 


THKEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


away?  Surely  not  six  months,  as  Uncle  Will  said  this 
morning.'* 

'*Yes,  I  think  so.  I  do  not  wish  to  hurry,  and  I 
mean  to  get  a  pretty  thorough  idea  of  what  the  United 
States  are  like.  I  think  I  shall  be  away  until  July  or 
August." 

"Oh,  Rupert,  don't!  It  will  be  too  lonely  and 
wretched  for  anything  without  you !"  Lillian  burst 
forth,  impetuously,  and  in  an  agitated  voice. 

"Why,  Lillian !"  he  exclaimed,  astonished,  and  be- 
stowing a  puzzled  look  upon  her  downcast,  agitated 
countenance;  "will  you  miss  me  like  that?" 

"Did  you  expect  you  could  go  away  for  so  long 
and  not  be  missed?"  she  asked,  tremulously. 

"I  confess  I  had  not  thought  much  about  it,"  he  re- 
plied, gravely;  "but  I  suppose,  as  we  have  all  been 
brought  up  together,  and  had  so  much  in  common,  that 
no  one  of  us  could  go  away  without  being  missed. 
However,  you  will  have  Percy." 

"But  Percy  is  soon  to  go  to  the  Grange,  and  will 
be  so  taken  up  with  his  interests  there  that  we  shall 
see  but  very  little  of  him.  Oh,  Rupert,  I  wish  there 
was  no  such  place  as  Axmerica  !"  Lillian  concluded,  with 
quivering  lips. 

"Bless  you,  little  sister!  I  never  thought  that  my 
going  away  would  upset  you  like  this,"  Rupert  said, 
laying  his  hand  lightly  on  her  shoulder,  and  really 
moved  to  see  how  she  was  taking  it  to  heart. 

^'Little  sister!"  she  repeated,  flushing  crimson,  and 
drawing  her  figure  to  its  full  height. 

She  was  very  handsome  at  that  moment,  and  Rupert 
wondered  that  he  had  not  noticed  of  late  how  exceed- 
ingly lovely  she  had  grown,  while  there  was  a  name- 


f HKEADS  GATHEKED  UF 


less  something  in  her  expressive  face,  and  even  in  her 
attitude,  that  thrilled  him  strangely. 

"Does  that  offend  your  young  ladyship?"  he  ques- 
tioned, laughing.  **You  are  not  so  little  after  all,  and 
I  was  unfortunate  in  my  choice  of  an  adjective;  but 
you  were  such  a  tiny  midget  when  I  came  here,  eight 
years  ago,  that  I  have  always  regarded  you  as  very 
petite:' 

"But  I  am  not — your  sister;  we  are  not  related  at 
all,"  she  murmured. 

He  started,  and  bent  a  puzzled  look  upon  her.  She 
was  standing  before  him,  with  half-averted  face,  her 
darkly  fringed  lids  almost  touching  her  cheeks,  her 
bosom  heaving  with  the  heavy  pulsations  of  her 
heart. 

"True,"  he  returned,  in  a  constrained  tone,  "and 
you  must  pardon  me  if  I  have  presumed  too  far;  but 
you  must  understand,  Lillian,  that  it  has  become  a 
natural  consequence  for  me  to  regard  you  almost  in 
that  light,  since  one  cannot  live  so  many  years  in  a 
family  without  becoming  strongly  attached  to  its 
members.  I  had  flattered  myself,  too,  that  I  had  won 
at  least  a  little  corner  in  the  hearts  of  my  friends 
here." 

"You  have !  you  have !  Oh,  Rupert,  I  did  not  mean 
anything  like  that !"  Lillian  cried,  in  a  distressed  tone, 
and  with  visible  agitation. 

"Then  what  did  you  mean?  I  do  not  understand 
you,"  the  young  man  asked,  and  leaned  forward  to 
look  into  her  downcast  face. 

Lillian  lifted  her  great  dark  eyes  to  his  for  an  in- 
stant, and  his  heart  gave  a  startled  bound  at  what  he 
read  in  their  dusky  depths.    Then  the  rich  blood 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


77 


rushed  in  a  crimson  flood  to  her  very  brow,  dyeing 
even  her  white  neck  with  its  rosy  hue. 

At  that  moment  a  door  of  the  conservatory  opened 
and  shut,  and  the  girl  started  guiltily  from  his  side. 

''There  comes  the  gardener,"  she  said,  with  evi- 
dent confusion,  "and  I  must  speak  to  him/' 

She  darted  away,  speeding  swiftly  down  the  walk, 
leaving  the  young  man  speechless  and  amazed  at  the 
discovery  that  he  had  made;  for  he  had  read  in  the 
girl's  beautiful  face  and  speaking  glance  the  confes- 
sion of  her  love  for  him. 

"Whew !"  he  ejaculated,  recovering  himself  after  a 
moment;  "I  never  dreamed  of  anything  like  that! 
,What  in  the  world  have  I  been  thinking  of  not  to 
realize  before  that  she  had  grown  a  young  lady,  and 
a  very  beautiful  one,  too?  I  wonder  if  I  could — can 
it  be  possible  that  I  have — bah !  I  never  have  meant 
to  do  any  mischief  in  that  way.  Perhaps  I'll — no. 
I'll  wait  until  I  get  back  from  my  trip.  It  is  very 
awkward.  I  wish  it  had  not  happened  just  now,"  he 
soliloquized,  brokenly. 

He  stood  gazing  out  of  the  conservatory  in  an  ab- 
sent way  for  several  minutes,  his  face  very  grave,  an 
anxious  look  in  his  fine  eyes;  but,  as  he  heard  Lillian 
and  the  gardener  approaching,  he  passed  around  to  an- 
other path  and  so  out  of  the  hot-house,  and  thus  avoid- 
ed meeting  them ;  he  did  not  feel  that  he  could  en- 
counter the  young  girl  again  just  then.  He  wished 
to  get  away  by  himself  and  think  over  the  revelation 
he  had  just  received. 

The  thought  of  love  in  connection  with  Lillian  Lin- 
ton had  never  entered  his  mind  until  now. 

She  had  simply  been  a  genisl  playmate  during  the 
earlier  years  of  his  life,  sharing  many  of  his  own  and 


78 


THKEADS  GATHEKED  UP. 


Percy's  sports,  and  a  pleasant  companion  when,  of 
late,  he  had  returned  to  Heathdale  from  college  to 
spend  his  vacations. 

He  had  scarcely  realized — as  his  own  words  be- 
trayed— that  she  had  reached  woman's  estate.  He 
knew  she  was  very  pretty,  very  bright  and  sparkling; 
he  knew  that  Heathdale  would  not  seem  like  home  to 
him  without  her,  and  he  enjoyed  her  society  as  he 
would  that  of  a  dear  sister ;  but  as  for  anything  nearer, 
as  a  wife,  he  had  never  thought  of  her. 

More  and  more  he  regretted  that  little  episode  in 
the  conservatory.  The  memory  of  it  embarrassed  him, 
try  hard  as  he  would  to  overcome  it,  and  he  found 
himself  avoiding  the  possibility  of  a  tete-d-tete  with 
Lillian  again,  while  he  began  to  grow  anxious  for  the 
day  of  his  departure,  that  he  might  escape  the  unnatural 
constraint  that  seemed  to  have  fallen  upon  him. 

Sir  William  wondered  what  had  come  over  him  during 
the  next  few  days,  but  attributed  his  unusual  gravity  to 
his  regret  at  the  approaching  separation. 

Lady  Linton  knew  from  Lillian's  manner,  that  some- 
thing had  gone  wrong ;  but,  although  she  questioned  her, 
she  could  learn  nothing  satisfactory,  and  she  became  more 
and  more  unreconciled  over  Rupert's  projected  tour. 

If  she  could  only  have  succeeded  in  arranging  an  en- 
gagement between  him  and  Lillian  before  he  left,  she 
would  have  felt  quite  safe  in  letting  him  go;  he  would 
have  stood  committed  then,  and  it  would  have  been  a 
safeguard  during  his  absence. 

She  did  everything  in  her  power  to  make  it  pleasant 
for  him  during  the  little  time  that  remained  to  him  at 
home ;  she  meant  that  he  should  at  least  take  away  agree- 
able memories  with  him,  and  he  assured  her  again  and 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP. 


79 


again  that  he  should  never  forget  her  kindness  to  him, 
for  all  that  she  was  doing  for  him. 

''You  have  been  like  a  mother  to  me,  Lady  Linton, 
ever  since  I  came  to  Heathdale,"  he  said,  gratefully,  to 
her  one  day  when  she  was  arranging  something  for  his 
comfort  during  the  voyage. 

*'And  you  have  been  like  a  son  to  me,  my  dear  boy,"  she 
returned,  with  a  fond  glance.  "I  shall  always  regard  you 
as  such.  I  am  sure  I  do  not  know  what  we  are  going  to 
do  without  you." 

"Six  months  will  soon  pass,"  Rupert  said,  trying  to 
speak  lightly. 

"They  may  to  you,  who  will  be  traveling  constantly, 
but  they  will  be  long  to  us  who  wait  at  home.  Poor 
Lillian !  I  set  her  to  marking  some  handkerchiefs  for 
you  this  morning,  but  she  broke  down  and  cried  so  over 
her  work  that  she  had  to  give  it  up." 

"I  am  afraid  I  am  an  unworthy  subject  for  so  much 
regret,"  Rupert  said,  with  a  sigh. 

Lillian's  regard  for  him,  her  pale,  sad  face,  and  hol- 
low eyes,  were  a  great  burden  on  his  heart. 

The  day  of  his  departure  arrived,  and  he  took  an  affec- 
tionate leave  of  his  friends. 

Lady  Linton  embraced  him  as  fervently  as  if  he  had 
indeed  been  her  son,  bade  him  take  care  of  himself  and 
come  safely  back  to  them,  for  it  would  break  their  hearts 
to  lose  him  entirely.  Percy  wished  him  every  possible 
pleasure,  and  promised  to  write  to  him  every  week. 
Lillian  gave  him  an  icy  cold  hand  at  parting ;  there  were 
tears  on  her  dark  lashes,  and  her  lips  quivered  painfully 
over  her  farewell;  but  she  would  not  allow  him  to  kiss 
her  in  the  old  friendly  fashion,  as  he  used  to  do  when 
he  and  Percy  went  back  to  school  at  the  end  of  their  holi- 


80 


TOBEADS  GATHERED  UP. 


days.  She  had  vowed  that  their  lips  should  never  meet 
again  until  he  had  given  her  a  lover's  kiss. 

Rupert  looked  troubled  at  being  thus  repulsed.  He 
understood  the  reason  for  it,  however,  and  it  was  with  a 
feeling  of  relief  that  he  realized  he  was  to  have  six 
months  in  which  to  make  up  his  mind  as  to  what  his  duty 
was  toward  his  guardian's  niece. 

Sir  William  accompanied  him  to  London,  thence  to 
Liverpool,  where  he  saw  him  safely  on  board  the  stanch 
Cunarder  that  was  to  bear  him  across  the  Atlantic,  after 
which  he  returned  to  Heathdale,  feeling  as  if  half  the 
sunshine  had  suddenly  been  blotted  from  his  life.  The 
boy  was  inexpressibly  dear  to  him,  and  he  would  have  been 
bereaved  indeed  if  anything  happened  to  him. 


raKEADS  GATHEKED 


81 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A  STRANGE  MEETING. 

The  voyage  was  a  tempestuous  one,  but  the  steamer 
made  her  time  notwithstanding,  and  Rupert  landed 
in  New  York  eight  days  after  leaving  Liverpool,  and 
was  not  sorry  to  be  once  more  upon  terra  firma. 

He  joined  the  Raymond  party  on  the  twelfth  of 
January,  according  to  his  plans,  and  found  himself 
among  a  very  pleasant  company  of  gentlemen  and 
ladies,  young  men  and  maidens,  all  enthusiastic  in 
view  of  their  trip. 

He  was  particularly  attracted  by  the  appearance  of 
one  young  man,  who,  like  himself,  was  traveling 
alone,  and  after  one  or  two  interviews,  being  mutually; 
pleased  with  each  other,  they  decided  to  become  trav- 
eling companions. 

On  the  third  day  after  starting  Rupert's  new  friend, 
who,  by  the  way,  had  introduced  himself  as  Harry 
Webster,  remarked  to  him: 

'T  say,  Hamilton,  have  you  noticed  that  dainty 
little  piece  of  humanity  opposite,  who  is  traveling 
with  that  old  codger,  Mr.  Knight,  they  call  him?** 

"Yes;  she  is  a  very  attractive  young  lady,"  Rupert 
answered,  as  his  eyes  wandered  to  a  trio  who  occu- 
pied seats  a  little  in  front  of  the  young  men  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  car.    *T  wonder  who  she  is." 

"Our  list  will  probably  tell  us,"  remarked  Mr.  Web- 
ster, as  he  drew  the  card  from  his  pocket.    "Yes,  I 


82 


THEEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


have  found  it.  Mr.  Robert  G.  Knight,  Miss  E.  F. 
Knight,  and  Miss  Virginia  Alexander." 

"Ah,  then  the  old  gentleman  and  lady  must  be 
brother  and  sister,  and  the  young  lady  some  friend, 
perhaps  a  niece,  who  is  traveling  with  them,"  said 
Rupert. 

''The  old  gentleman  appears  to  be  remarkably  fond 
of  her  though,"  returned  Mr.  Webster. 

*'Yes;  but  the  old  lady  keeps  guard  over  her  as  if 
she  feared  that  some  brigand  was  in  ambush,  waiting 
to  abduct  her  pretty  charge  to  regions  unknown," 
Rupert  responded  with  a  roguish  twinkle  in  his 
eye. 

''What  do  you  say  to  making  a  raid  upon  the  party?" 
proposed  his  companion.  "Now  I  am  bent  upon  get- 
ting acquainted  with  that  pretty  girl,  if  for  nothing 
more  than  to  show  that  prim  spinster  that  I  can  do  it. 
Will  you  join  me,  or  does  such  a  proposition  shock 
your  English  ideas  of  etiquette?" 

"I  confess  I  should  prefer  to  have  a  formal  intro- 
duction," Rupert  returned,  flushing  slightly,  but  re- 
garding that  graceful  figure  with  a  look  of  unmis- 
takable admiration. 

The  maiden  whom  the  young  men  had  been  dis- 
cussing was  indeed  a  very  lovely  girl,  about  eighteen 
years  of  age.  She  was  a  trifle  above  the  medium 
height,  having  a  slender,  willowy  figure,  with  a  pecu- 
liar grace  and  animation  in  every  movement.  Her 
glossy  brown  hair  was  twisted  into  a  shining  coil 
at  the  back  of  her  head,  which  was  crowned  with  a 
pretty  hat  of  gray  felt,  trimmed  with  velvet  of  the 
same  shade  and  a  single  scarlet  wing.  She  wore  a 
closely  fitting  ulster,  trimmed  with  fur,  which  showed 
her  perfect  form  to  great  advantage;  a  plain  linen 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


83 


collar  was  fastened  at  her  throat  with  a  brooch  of 
dull  red  gold,  and  tiny  ornaments  of  the  same  metal 
were  in  her  small  ears.  Her  eyes  were  a  dark  brown, 
and  quick  and  restless  in  their  glances;  her  features 
were  beautifully  clear  and  delicate ;  the  glow  of  per- 
fect health  was  on  her  cheeks ;  her  lips  w-ere  a  vivid 
red  and  her  complexion  very  pure. 

She  was  a  vivacious  little  body,  laughing  and  chat- 
ting with  the  elderly  gentleman,  in  whose  charge  she 
appeared  to  be,  in  a  way  that  betrayed  she  stood  in 
no  fear  of  him,  while  his  fond  glances  and  the  many 
attentions  he  bestowed  upon  her  plainly  betrayed  that 
he  was  indeed  very  fond  of  her. 

Young  Webster  had  been  especially  attracted  toward 
this  party  from  the  hour  of  starting,  and  had  been  on 
the  alert  to  make  their  acquaintance^  although  he  had 
not  mentioned  the  subject  before;  but  the  trio  had 
kept  prett}'  w^ell  by  themselves  and  appeared  quite  con- 
tented with  their  own  company,  so,  as  yet,  there  had 
been  no  opportunity  for  him  to  approach  them  without 
making  himself  conspicuous  in  so  doing. 

But  in  spite  of  his  boast  that  he  would  make  Miss 
Alexander's  acquaintance,  he  was  destined  to  be  out- 
done and  thrown  into  the  background  by  his  more 
modest  English  friend. 

When  the  party  was  summoned  to  dinner  that  day 
there  w^as  the  usual  rush  for  the  dining-car;  human 
nature  will  not  always  be  curbed  when  people  are 
hungry;  but  Mr.  Knight  and  his  companions  lingered 
to  avoid  the  crowd, 

Mr.  Webster  also  delayed,  and  held  his  friend  back 
in  the  hope  that  something  might  occur  to  establish  an 
acquaintance  with  the  young  lady  whom  he  so  much 
admired. 


THEEADS  GATHEKED  UF 


And  something  did  occur. 

In  passing  from  one  car  to  the  other,  Mr.  Knight 
first  assisted  his  sister  across,  then  turned  to  his  young 
charge,  when  a  gust  of  wind  whirled  her  pretty  hat 
from  her  head,  it  being  held  in  place  only  by  a  pin, 
and  it  would  have  been  wafted  beyond  recovery  but 
for  Rupert,  who  was  directly  behind  her,  and  who 
deftly  caught  it  in  its  flight. 

He  instantly  returned  it  to  its  fair  owner,  saying, 
with  a  bow  and  his  frank  smile : 

am  very  glad  that  I  was  quick  enough  to  save 

it" 

"I  am  glad,  too,"  returned  the  little  lady,  with  a 
mery  laugh.  "Thank  you.  It  would  be  very  awk- 
ward to  have  to  go  on  my  way  bare-headed." 

Rupert  glanced  at  her  as  she  restored  the  hat  to  its 
place  with  a  look  which  plainly  said  that  he  thought 
it  a  very  pretty  head,  even  in  that  state. 

Mr.  Knight  politely  acknowledged  his  obligations 
for  the  service;  but  his  sister,  who  was  looking  over 
his  shoulder,  regarded  the  two  young  men  askance, 
as  if  she  was  not  quite  sure  that  the  occurrence  had 
not  been  all  a  plot,  to  which  old  Boreas  had  craftily 
lent  his  aid. 

Then  they  all  passed  into  the  dining-room  car,  where 
there  was  one  small  table  unoccupied,  with  space  for 
four  persons,  with  only  one  other  vacancy  at  another, 
midway  of  the  car. 

Mr.  Knight  turned  to  Rupert,  saying,  cordially: 

"Come  and  share  our  table — I  see  the  others  are 
nearly  full — and  let  me  introduce  you  to  my  sister  and 
ward.   What  shall  I  call  you,  if  you  please?" 

Rupert  drew  forth  a  card,  and  handed  it  to  the  gen- 
tleman. 


THEE ADS  GATHERED  UP 


85 


"Afi,  Mr.  Hamilton.  My  name  is  Knight  This 
lady/'  turning  to  the  spinster,  *'is  my  sister,  and  this 
gay  young  woman,"  with  a  fond  glance  into  the  pretty 
face  beside  him,  "to  whom  you  have  just  rendered  so 
signal  a  service,  allow  me  to  introduce  as  Miss  Alexan- 
der, Mr.  Hamilton." 

The  young  couple  acknowledged  the  introduction, 
though  with  heightened  color,  and  then  Mr.  Knight 
motioned  them  to  their  seats,  while  Mr.  Webster,  feel- 
ing somewhat  chagrined  to  find  that  he  was  being 
left  in  the  lurch,  hastened  on  to  the  vacant  place  far- 
ther down,  giving  his  friend  a  comical  glance  of  recog- 
nized defeat  as  he  passed. 

Rupert  found  his  new  acquaintances  very  delightful 
people.  Even  the  spinster,  whom  he  and  Webster  had 
laughingly  pronounced  a  "female  ogre,"  proved  to  be 
a  lady  of  rare  culture  and  an  exceedingly  entertain- 
ing companion.  He  was  seated  beside  her,  conse- 
quently his  conversation  was  mostly  with  her,  al- 
though Miss  Alexander  was  his  vis-a-vis,  and  he  found 
it  almost  impossible  to  keep  his  eyes  away  from  her 
dimpled,  expressive  face. 

"How  are  you  enjoying  your  journey  thus  far,  Mr. 
Hamilton?"  Mr.  Knight  inquired,  during  the  meal. 

"Very  much,  thank  you,  although  I  have  no  doubt  I 
should  enjoy  it  much  better  if  I  were  not  quite  such 
a  stranger  to  the  party." 

"We  are  all  strangers  for  that  matter,"  returned  the 
elder  gentleman.  "I  have  noticed  that  you  and  your 
young  friend  keep  much  by  yourselves;  but  you  must 
stir  about  and  get  acquainted." 

"One  does  not  like  to  intrude  upon  family  parties," 
Rupert  replied,  modestly. 

"You  must  not  stand  upon  formality.    I  have  tried 


86 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


to  impress  that  upon  my  sister  here,  who  is  a  trifle 
shy  about  making  new  acquaintances;  but  in  such  a 
company  as  this  we  all  expect  to  become  acquainted 
with  each  other,  and  we  shall  enjoy  our  trip  much 
better  than  to  be  ceremonious.  At  all  events,  I  have 
broken  the  ice  for  you ;  I  find  it  pleasant  to  have  young 
people  about  me,  and  shall  be  glad  to  know  you  bet- 
ter. Eh,  Virgie,  it  has  been  a  little  lonely,  hasn't  it,  to 
have  only  two  old  fogies  to  talk  to?"  and  Mr.  Knight 
turned,  with  a  roguish  twinkle  in  his  eyes,  to  the  fair 
maiden  at  his  side. 

The  young  girl  shot  a  quick  glance  at  Rupert,  a 
charming  smile  wreathing  her  red  lips. 

Then  her  cheeks  began  to  dimple  and  her  eyes  to 
gleam  with  mirth. 

"I  know  of  one  'old  fogy'  who  is  fishing  for  a  com- 
pliment," she  retorted,  with  a  saucy  toss  of  her  bright 
head,  *'and  who  has  been  speaking  two  words  for  him- 
self and  one  for  others.  I  know  what  he  wants.  Mr. 
Hamilton,  do  you  play  whist?  Because  if  you  do," 
she  went  on,  archly,  without  waiting  for  him  to  re- 
ply, "and  are  fond  of  it,  it  will  be  all  right;  for  you 
will  doubtless  be  invited  by  my  guardian  to  'take  a 
hand,'  and  once  commited,  look  out  for  yourself;  he 
is  an  inveterate  player,  and  he  has  no  mercy  on  his 
foes." 

"Oh,  fie !  Virgie,  what  a  character  to  give  your  best 
friend;  and  to  a  stranger,  too,"  laughed  Mr.  Knight, 
good-humoredly ;  "but  I  confess  I  am  a  dear  lover 
of  whist,  Mr.  Hamilton,  and" — with  a  quizical  look 
at  Virgie — "if  you  know  the  game,  won't  you  and 
your  friend  take  a  hand,  after  dinner,  with  me  and 
my  ward?   My  sister  does  not  play." 


THEE ADS  GATHEKED  UP  87 

'There!    I  told  you  so,"  interposed  the  gay  girl, 
with  a  ripple  of  silvery  laughter. 
Rupert  joined  her  heartily. 

"I  thank  you  for  your  timely  warning,  Miss  Alex- 
ander," he  said,  but  I  do  understand  the  game  and 
like  it,  too;  but  before  I  commit  myself,  won't  you  tell 
me,  please,  is  your  friend  a  very  formudable  antag- 
onist?" 

"Dreadful !  he  plays  as  if  his  life  and  honor  depended 
upon  his  winning  every  game,"  she  answered,  the  dim- 
ples playing  at  hide  and  seek  about  her  lovely  mouth, 
while  Rupert  thought  her  the  most  delightful  little 
body  he  had  ever  met. 

"Then  perhaps  you  may  know  some  of  the  weak 
points  of  the  enemy,  and  will  join  me  in  besieging  his 
fort  after  diinner,"  he  said,  with  an  appealing  glance. 

"Thank  you;  I  will,  with  pleasure,  !Mr.  Hamilton," 
was  the  gay  response ;  "it  is  not  often  that  I  play 
against  himi;  but  if  I  could  see  him  beaten  a  few 
times,  just  to  take  some  of  what  our  Irish  neighbors 
call  'the  consate'  out  of  him,  I  think  I  should  rather 
enjoy  it." 

''Oh !  the  depravity  of  human  nature  I"  cried  Mr. 
Knight,  in  mock  distress,  though  his  eyes  rested  very 
tenderly  upon  the  bright  face  beside  him;  "after  shar- 
ing all  my  honors  in  the  past,  to  forswear  your  alle- 
giance like  this  I  it  is  rank  treason." 

"'Do  not  be  disheartened,  my  dear  guardian,"  laughed 
Vergie.  "for  perhaps  you  have  it  in  your  power  to 
punish  me  severely  for  my  presumption  in  taking  up 
arms  against  you;  however,  ^Mr.  Hamilton,  we  will  do 
our  best  to  come  off  victorious.'"' 

When  they  returned  to  the  palace  car,  Rupert  intro- 
duced his  friend,  and  then  the  quartet  gave  themselves 


88 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


tip  to  the  enjoyment  of  their  cards,  Miss  Knight  occu- 
pying a  seat  in  another  section,  and  burying  herself 
in  a  book. 

They  played  for  two  or  three  hours,  and  to  Miss 
Virgie's  great  glee,  she  and  her  partner  beat  the  others 
three  games  out  of  five. 

Mr.  Knight  accepted  his  defeat  very  good-naturedly, 
but  declared  that  he  would  be  even  with  them  some 
other  time,  and  then  he  fell  into  conversation  with 
his  new  acquaintances  upon  the  topics  of  the  day,  while 
Virgie  sat  by  and  listened,  and  studied  the  two  young 
men  in  whose  society  she  had  been  so  unexpectedly 
thrown. 

Of  course  we  all  recognize  in  Mr.  Knight  the  great 
publisher,  who  had  been  so  kind  to  Mrs.  Alexander, 
in  San  Francisco,  during  her  many  trials  there. 

The  beautiful  girl  who  is  traveling  with  him  is  her 
daughter,  Virgie,  who,  when  we  last  saw  her  at  Ni- 
agara, was  but  ten  years  of  age.  She  is  now  eighteen, 
and  blossoming  into  lovely  womanhood,  and  as  charm- 
ing and  winsome  a  maiden  as  one  could  find,  go  the 
w^orld  over. 

Her  home  for  a  number  of  years  had  been  in  New 
York  city,  her  mother,  as  we  know,  having  changed  her 
residence  at  the  time  that  Mr.  Knight  decided  to  come 
East  to  establish  himself  in  business. 

Mrs.  Alexander  had  used  her  pen  during  all  this 
time,  giving  her  friend  one  or  two  little  gems  of  art 
every  year,  for  it  was  a  pleasant  pastime  for  her  to 
employ  herself  in  this  way,  but  her  chief  thought  had 
been  given  to  the  education  of  her  daughter,  who 
proved  to  be  bright  and  intelligent  beyond  the  average 
nineteenth  century  girl.  She  had  graduated  from  one 
of  the  select  schools  of  the  city  during  the  summer 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP. 


89 


Just  passed,  and  her  mother  had  begun  to  contemplate 
taking  her  abroad  when  spring  should  come  again,  with 
the  intention  of  demanding  her  right  at  Heathdale. 

Still,  as  the  time  gradually  drew  nearer,  she  had 
shrunk  more  and  more  from  the  task  before  her,  until 
the  constant  dread  of  it  had  begun  to  affect  her  health, 
and  she  had  been  far  from  well  during  the  last  few 
months. 

Mr.  Knight  and  his  sister  had  never  visited  San 
Francisco  since  leaving  that  city,  although  they  had 
often  talked  of  doing  so.  But  this  winter,  when  they 
learned  of  the  Raymond  excursion  to  that  and  other 
points  on  the  Pacific  coast,  they  proposed  to  join  it, 
and  invited  Mrs.  Alexander  and  her  daughter  to  ac- 
company them. 

She  did  not  feel  equal  to  either  the  weariness  or  the 
excitement  of  the  journey;  but  she  thought  that  it 
would  be  a  good  opportunity  for  Virgie  to  visit  the 
far  West,  and  she  gladly  confided  her  to  the  care  of 
her  friends  for  the  two  months  that  the  trip  would 
occupy,  and  thus  we  find  her  in  company  with  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Knight,  bound  for  the  State  where  her 
mother  had  been  born,  and  as  fate  had  strangely  or- 
dered it,  with  the  very  party  which  Sir  William 
Heath's  v/ard,  Rupert  Hamilton,  had  joined. 


m 


a?HREADS  GATHERED 


CHAPTER  X. 

MR.  AND  MISS  KNIGHT  VERSUS  CUPI». 

The  ice  once  broken  between  Mr.  Knight^s  party 
and  the  two  young  men,  the  acquaintance  progressed 
rapidly,  and  it  soon  became  evident  that  Rupert  and 
iVirgie  found  each  other  especially  congenial. 

The  young  Englishman  managed  to  constitute 
himself  the  beautiful  girl's  escort  upon  almost  every 
occasion  when  they  were  sight-seeing,  until  Mr. 
Webster  began  to  realize  that  he  was  de  trop,  or 
as  he  humorously  expressed  it,  but  the  "fifth  wheel 
to  the  coach,"  and  he  was  forced  to  look  about  him 
for  other  society  to  soothe  his  wounded  pride. 

He  soon  found  it  in  the  companionship  of  two 
sisters,  who  were  traveling  with  an  aunt,  and  the 
dark  eyes  and  sparkling  beauty  of  the  elder  ere  long 
bade  fair  to  make  as  much  a  captive  of  him  as  Vir- 
gie  had  already  made  of  Rupert  Hamilton. 

She  was  the  loveliest  girl  that  he  had  ever  seen. 
Lillian  Linton,  and  the  startling  discovery  which  Ru- 
pert had  made  regarding  her  feelings  toward  him- 
self just  before  leaving  Heathdale,  were  forgotten, 
and  he  surrendered  himself  to  the  charm  of  her 
society,  never  questioning  to  what  it  might  lead, 
or  what  his  feelings  might  be  when  the  trip  was 
ended,  and  they  should  go  their  different  ways. 

But  others  began  to  consider  these  things  if  the 
youthful  couple  did  not. 


THREADS  GATHEEED  UP  91 


Older  and  more  experienced  eyes  could  see  that 
he  was  fast  learning  to  love  the  charming  girl,  and 
that  she  was  also  yielding  her  young  heart,  with  its 
first  strong  passion,  to  the  handsome  Englishman. 

Mr.  and  Miss  Knight  could  not  fail  to  perceive  the 
danger  that  lurked  in  the  pleasant  companionship, 
and,  while  they  liked  the  frank,  manly  fellow  uncom- 
'  monly  well,  they  were  troubled  at  the  thought  of 
anything  serious  grov.dng  out  of  it,  while  Virgie 
was  in  their  care. 

^'Robert,  I  am  afraid  there  is  mischief  brewing, 
and  I  feel  very  uneasy  about  it,"  Miss  Knight  re- 
marked to  her  brother  one  day,  as  Rupert  and  Virgie 
stole  away  together  to  a  corner  of  the  parlor  in  the 
hotel  where  they  were  stopping  to  look  over  a  col- 
lection of  views,  which  the  young  man  had  recently 
purchased. 

Mr.  Knight  shot  a  keen,  anxious  look  at  them. 

*'IVe  been  a  little  fearful  of  it  myself,  Stella,"  he 
replied,  gravely;  "but  I  do  not  know  as  we  can  pre- 
vent it." 

"We  must  prevent  it,"  returned  his  sister,  firmly. 

"We  must  do  our  duty,  Robert ;  it  would  not  be  right 

to  allow  that  dear  child  to  become  entangled  in  a 
:  love  affair  while  she  is  away  from  her  mother.  I 
1  should  never  forgive  myself,  and  she  would  never 

forgive  us,  if  any  harm  should  befall  her  while  she  is 

in  our  care." 

"I  cannot  think  there  is  anything  wrong  about  the 
young  chap,"  returning  Mr.  Knight,  his  eyes  resting 
thoughtfully  on  the  handsome  face  looking  so  smilingly 
into  Virgie's ;  "he  seems  like  a  fine,  manly  fellow  and  has 


92 


THREADS  GATHEEED  UP 


no  bad  habits;  he  does  not  even  smoke,  which  is  a 
rare  virtue  among  young  men  nowadays." 

"But  we  know  nothing  about  him  or  his  family," 
persisted  the  lady;  "we  do  not  even  know  from  what 
portion  of  England  he  came ;  at  least  I  do  not." 

"Neither  do  I,"  said  her  brother;  "I  have  never 
questioned  him  and  he  seems  very  modest  about  talk- 
ing of  himself;  but  if  Virgie  were  my  daughter — and 
you  know  that  I  love  her  almost  as  well  as  if  she 
were — I  do  not  think  I  should  feel  very  much  alarmed 
to  have  her  fall  in  love  with  as  noble  a  specimen  of 
manhood  as  young  Hamilton  appears  to  be." 

"I  like  him,  too,  Robert,"  said  Miss  Knight;  "he 
is  every  inch  a  gentleman,  and  doubtless  belongs  to  a 
good  family  or  he  would  not  have  been  so  carefully 
reared.  Still  I  am  troubled ;  I  want  Virgie  to  go  home 
as  free  as  she  came,  and — I  feel  as  if  young  Hamil- 
ton ought  to  be  put  upon  his  honor — at  least  until 
we  can  give  her  back  to  her  mother,  when,  of  course, 
our  responsibility  will  cease.  I  can  read  the  signs 
of  the  times  pretty  well,  if  I  have  grown  to  be  an  old 
woman,  and,  if  we  do  not  look  out,  they  will  be 
acknowledged  lovers  before  another  fortnight  goes 
by." 

Mr.  Knight  looked  thoughtful. 

"Well,"  he  responded  after  a  moment  of  silence, 
"we  shall  not  be  together  much  longer.  Hamilton 
leaves  this  party  as  soon  as  we  have  done  California 
to  go  to  Mexico  with  another  company,  so  " 

"Yes,  I  know  that,"  interrupted  his  sister,  "and 
that  is  just  what  is  going  to  precipitate  matters  if 
we  are  not  on  our  guard.    When  the  time  comes  for 


THEEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


93 


them  to  separate  3^011  do  not  suppose  he  will  leave  her 
without  begging  for  some  word  of  hope?" 

"Stella,  you  reason  remarkably  well,"  said  Mr. 
Knight,  laughing,  *'and  I  think  it  will  be  best  to  put 
a  flea  in  the  boy's  ear.  I  suppose  it  will  be  better 
for  me  to  get  the  name  of  being  a  meddlesome  old 
fogy  rather  than  run  any  risk  of  future  unhappiness 
for  our  dear  girl." 

Miss  Knight  appeared  to  be  satisfied  with  this  de- 
cision of  her  brother,  and  dropped  the  subject. 

The  party  was  at  San  Jose  when  this  conversation 
occurred.  They  were  to  remain  several  days  in  the 
beautiful  city,  making  it  their  headquarters  also  while 
visiting  points  of  interest  in  its  vicinity,  and  Mr. 
Knight  resolved  to  make  a  bold  stroke  at  once  at  the 
disagreeable  task  that  his  sister  had  imposed  on  him, 
and  have  the  matter  off  his  mind. 

As  they  were  leaving  the  table  of  the  Anjerais 
House  after  dinner  that  evening  he  slipped  his  arm 
within  Rupert's  in  a  confidential  way  and  said,  with 
a  genial  smile : 

"Mr.  Hamilton,  I  am  going  out  for  a  little  quiet 
stroll  about  the  city;  will  you  come  with  me?" 

Rupert  had  been  meditating  a  cozy  tete-a-tete  with 
Virgie  on  the  veranda,  while  the  band  discoursed 
sweet  music  on  the  stand  near  by,  but  he  was  too  well 
>  bred  and  unselfish  to  refuse  an  old  gentleman's  re- 
quest, and  unhesitatingly  responded: 

"Thank  you,  sir,  I  shall  be  happy  to  accompany 
you." 

When  they  were  in  the  street  Mr.  Knight  turned  his 
steps  toward  the  park  near  by,  and,  after  walking 
up  and  down  its  beautiful  avenues  for  a  while,  he 


94  THEEADS  GATHERED  UP. 


seated  himself  upon  a  rustic  bench  and  motioned  his 
companion  to  sit  beside  him. 

Then  he  turned  frankly  to  him,  and,  speaking  with 
great  kindness,  said: 

"My  young  friend,  it  has  always  been  my  practice, 
when  I  had  any  disagreeable  duty  to  perform,  to  adopt 
ithe  most  straightforward  course,  and,  as  I  have  some- 
thing on  my  heart  which  I  wish  to  say  to  you,  I  trust 
that  you  will  pardon  me  if  I  speak  out  freely." 

Rupert  Hamilton's  heart  gave  one  tremendous 
bound  at  these  words,  and  he  cast  a  startled  look  into 
the  friendly  face  beside  him,  knowing  intuitively  what 
was  coming. 

"If  I  am  in  any  way  connected  with  this  disagree- 
able duty,  sir,  I  hope  you  will  speak  frankly,"  he  man- 
aged to  stammer. 

"Thank  you.  I  felt  sure  that  you  would  receive 
what  I  have  to  say  in  a  friendly  spirit,"  Mr.  Knight 
continued,  pitying  the  embarrassed  lover  sincerely. 
*T  am  an  old  man,  my  boy,  but  I  have  been  young  and 
do  not  forget  the  temptations  and  pleasures  belonging 
to  youth ;  neither  can  I  find  it  in  my  heart  to  blame 
two  charming  people  for  recognizing  a  congenial 
spirit,  and  turning  to  each  other  for  companionship ; 
but  " 

Rupert  Hamilton  turned  now,  and  looked  squarely 
into  his  aged  friend's  countenance. 

*Tn  other  words,  sir,  you  wish  to  speak  with  me 
regarding  my  admiration  for  Miss  Alexander,  which, 
of  course,  I  know  you  have  not  failed  to  remark," 
he  said,  in  a  manly,  outspoken  fashion,  that  pleased 
Mr.  Knight  well,  though  a  deep  red  flush  mantled 
his  cheek. 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


95 


*''You  are  right,  that  is  just  what  I  wish  to  confer 
with  you  about,"  the  elder  gentleman  returned,  ad- 
ding, "You  will  no  doubt  appreciate  the  responsibility 
of  my  position,  when  I  tell  you  that  Miss  Alexander  is 
the  only  child  of  a  very  dear  friend,  and  the  young 
lady  was  intrusted  to  my  own  and  my  sister's  care, 
during  the  journey,  because  her  mother  was  not  her- 
self able  to  accompany  her.  We  therefore  feel  that 
it  would  be  very  unwise  and  dishonorable  on  our  part, 
to  allow  her  to  receive,  from  any  one,  attentions 
Avhich  might  tend  to  hamper  her  future  in  any  way. 
For  this  reason,  I  wish  to  speak  a  word  of  caution  to 
3^ou.  Virgie  is  very  young,  and  I  do  not  believe 
she  has  given  a  thought  to  what  might  result  from 
this  pleasant  intercourse,  and  I  should  deeply  regret 
it  if  she  should  become  involved  in  any  affair  of  the 
heart  while  away  from  her  mother." 

"You  are  right,  sir;"  Rupert  answered,  gravely, 
after  a  moment  of  thought,  "and  I  thank  you  for  your 
timely  admonition,  else,  in  a  moment  of  impulse,  I 
might  have  been  led  to  betray  more  of  my  regard  for 
Miss  Alexander  than  would  be  wise  or  right,  under 
the  circumstances.  I  will  deal  as  frankly  with  you, 
as  you  have  dealt  with  me,  and  confess  that  I  admire 
her  more  than  any  young  lady  I  have  ever  met.  She 
is  very  lovely,  and" — the  flush  on  his  handsome  face 
deepening — "were  you  her  father  instead  of  her  tem- 
porary guardian,  I  should  boldly  ask  your  permission 
to  address  her  with  the  hope  of  some  day  winning 
her  affection." 

Mr.  Knight  smiled  upon  the  eager  lover. 

"I  imagine  that  I  have  spoken  none  too  soon,''  he 
5aid.    "I  am  afraid  that  sly  little  god,  Cupid,  has  al- 


m 


TEEEADS  GATHERED  UP. 


ready  wrought  more  mischief  than  I  will  be  able  to 
remedy.  But  I  admire  your  candor,  Mr.  Hamilton, 
and  if  you  desire  a  more  intimate  acquaintance  with 
my  pretty  little  ward,  by  and  by,  I  will  give  you  her 
address  and  you  can  seek  her  in  her  own  home,  where 
there  will  be  no  ogre  to  rear  obstacles  in  your  path." 

'*Do  not  call  yourself  hard  names,  Mr.  Knight," 
Rupert  said,  regarding  him  with  a  look  of  profound 
respect.  "I  am  sure  you  have  done  only  what  you 
believe  to  be  right." 

''Thank  you ;  you  may  be  assured  that  it  was  not  an 
agreeable  duty,"  returned  the  publisher,  with  a  shrug 
of  his  shoulders,  adding,  with  a  roguish  twinkle  in  his 
eyes,  ''and  if  Virgie  were  my  daughter  I  think  yoU 
would  not  have  found  me  a  very  obdurate  parent. 
Truly,  young  man,  I  like  you  exceedingly  well,  and 
when  we  go  back  to  New  York,  I  will  do  all  in  my 
power  to  favor  your  suit,  if  you  are  then  of  the  same 
mind  as  now." 

"You  are  very  kind,  sir,"  Rupert  said,  gratefully, 
"and  now,  as  I  may  not  have  another  opportunity  to 
make  the  request,  if  you  will  give  me  Miss  Alex- 
ander's address,  I  shall  consider  it  a  favor." 

Mr.  Knight  drew  forth  a  card  and  wrote  it  for  him, 
wondering  why  he  should  speak  as  he  had  done 
about  not  having  another  opportunity  to  get  it. 

A  little  later  they  returned  to  the  hotel,  where  Ru- 
pert at  once  sought  the  manager  of  the  excursion, 
and  did  not  join  the  company  again  for  an  hour  or 
more. 

Then  it  seemed  as  if  a  change  had  come  over  him. 
He  was  quiet  and  preoccupied,  almost  spiritless.  Vir- 
gie noticed  it,  and  wondered  what  could  have  oc- 


THEEADS  GATHEKED  UF!  m. 

curred  to  make  him  so.  He  did  not  devote  himself 
as  exclusively  as  usual  to  her,  although  he  was  never 
far  away  from  her. 

When  the  party  broke  up  for  the  night,  after  an 
unusually  merry  evening,  he  went  to  her  with  a  sink- 
ing heart. 

She  looked  up  at  him  with  shy  eyes  and  a  dimpling 
smile,  that  almost  made  him  break  a  resolve  that  he 
had  made  since  he  last  saw  her. 

"You  have  not  been  like  yourself  this  evening,  Mr. 
Hamilton,"  she  said.  "Have  you  had  bad  news,  or 
are  you  not  quite  well?" 

"Neither,  Miss  Alexander,"  he  replied,  looking  down 
upon  her  bright  face  with  eyes  that  kindled  and 
glowed  in  spite  of  the  restraint  that  he  was  imposing 
on  himself.  "I  am  simply  experiencing  a  good  deal 
of  regret  that  I  must  leave  some  of  my  pleasant  com- 
panions; I  am  going  to  join  a  party  for  Mexico  im- 
mediately." 

"Are  you?"  Virgie  asked,  with  a  start,  and  looking 
greatly  surprised,  while  she  lost  some  of  her  lovely 
color. 

She  thought  it  very  singular  that  he  had  not  before 
mentioned  the  fact  of  his  intention  to  leave  at  this 
point.  She  knew  that  later  on  he  was  intending  to  go 
farther  South. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  his  heart  beating  heavily,  as  he  read 
the  regret  in  her  eyes,  "Some  gentlemen  have  ar- 
ranged for  an  ocean  trip,  intending  to  touch  at  the 
Santa  Barbara  Islands  and  land  at  San  Diego,  whence 
they  will  proceed  into  Mexico.  I  am  going  with 
them." 

All  the  light  had  died  out  of  Virgie^s  face  during 


98  THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


this  explanation.  It  seemed  as  if  there  was  nothing" 
left  for  her  to  enjoy  during  the  remainder  of  the 
tour. 

She  had  never  realized  before  how  dependent  for 
enjoyment  she  had  been  upon  his  society,  and  now 
he  was  going  another  way.  Perhaps  they  would  never 
meet  again;  he  would  doubtless  go  directly  back  to 
England  after  his  return  from  Mexico,  and  that  would 
end  this  delightful  episode  of  her  life. 

Her  heart  cried  out  against  the  separation,  and, 
like  a  flash,  it  came  to  her  how  much  this  frank,  noble 
young  Englishman  had  become  to  her. 

She  did  not  know  what  to  say  to  him;  she  stood 
there  silent,  wretched,  and  pale  as  the  snowy  lace 
that  lay  in  folds  upon  her  white  neck. 

"You — have  changed  your  plans  quite  suddenly, 
have  you  not?"  she  at  last  managed  to  stammer. 

"It  is  rather  an  unexpected  move,"  he  tried  to  say, 
in  a  natural  tone;  "but  I  may  never  have  another 
opportunity  to  take  a  voyage  upon  the  Pacific  Ocean, 
and  it  seems  best  that  I  should  go." 

It  would  have  taken  but  very  little  more  to  have 
broken  the  fair  girl  down  entirely.  In  all  her  life 
she  had  scarcely  known  a  trial,  hardly  a  wish  ungrati- 
fied,  and  this  had  come  upon  her  like  a  thunderbolt 
from  the  sky. 

She  knew  that  she  ought  to  make  no  sign  before 
him,  and  yet  she  could  not  repress  all  feeling. 

Her  lips  quivered  slightly  and  there  was  a  wistful 
expression  in  her  eyes  as  she  lifted  them  to  him  and 
said : 

"I  am  sorry  that  you  are  going,  Mr.  Hamilton. 
We  shall  miss  you  sadly." 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


99 


''Shall  you?"  he  cried,  eagerly,  his  face  growing 
luminous.  "Thank  you,"  he  added,  checking  himself 
again.  'T  am  sorry,  too,  to  leave  you ;  but.  Miss  Alex- 
ander, I  shall  be  in  New  York  early  in  the  spring.  May 
I  hope  to  renew  our  acquaintance  there?  May  I  come 
to  see  you  in  your  own  home?" 

A  rosy  glow  leaped  into  the  young  girl's  face  at  this 
request.  A  heavy  load  dropped  from  her  heart,  a 
sweet,  new  hope  began  to  bud  within  her  soul. 

'"Yes,  indeed ;  do  come,  Mr.  Hamilton.  I  know  that 
mamma  will  be  glad  to  meet  you,"  she  said,  cordially. 

''Thank  you;  but  will  you  also  be  glad  to  see  me, 
Vir — Miss  Alexander?"  the  young  man  asked,  in  a 
low,  eager  tone,  and  there  was  an  expression  in  his 
eyes  of  which  he  was  wholly  unconscious,  but  which 
told  his  fair  companion  much  that  he  had  fully  in- 
tended should  remain  hidden  deep  within  his  own 
heart  until  he  could  stand  before  Mrs.  Alexander,  tell 
her  how  tenderly  he  had  learned  to  love  her  daughter, 
and  ask  her  sanction  to  his  suit. 

"Yes,  I  shall  be  glad,"  Virgie  breathed,  softly,  her 
w^hite  lids  hiding  the  happy  light  in  her  eyes,  though 
there  was  a  tell-tale  glow  upon  her  cheek. 

Some  one  was  approaching  them  and  he  knew  he 
must  leave  her,  though  she  had  never  seemed  so  lovely 
to  him  as  in  that  shy,  sweet  mood. 

"1  leave  early  to-morrow  morning,  therefore  I  must 
say  good-night  and  good-by  now,"  he  said,  trying  to 
smile  as  he  extended  his  hand  to  her,  though  his  voice 
was  a  trifle  unsteady. 

She  laid  hers  within  it  and  looked  up  archly,  as  she 
replied : 

"I  shall  not  say  good-by  to  you,  Mr.  Hamilton.  I 


100  THEEADS  GATHERED  UF 

3o  not  like  the  words.  I  will  bid  you  good  speed, 
wishing  you  a  pleasant  voyage  and  a  safe  return." 

His  fingers  closed  over  the  small  hand  with  a  fond, 
lingering  clasp,  then  with  one  last  look  into  her  dear 
face,  he  turned  away,  to  make  his  adieus  elsewhere, 
knowing  that  he  should  not  see  her  again  for  months, 
but  feeling  as  if  his  soul  had  quaffed  some  strangely 
inspiring  elixir  during  that  last  moment  or  two  in 
her  sweet  presence. 


SDHKEADS  GATHEKED  UE 


101 


CHAPTER  XL 

A  BITTER  DISAPPOINTMENT. 

It  seemed  very  duli  to  Virgie  for  a  while  after  the 
departure  of  Rupert,  who  had  been  a  very  lively  and 
agreeable  traveler;  indeed,  the  whole  company  missed 
him;  but  Mr.  Knight  and  his  sister  exerted  themselves 
to  fill  the  young  man's  place  as  far  as  possible,  and, 
with  the  memory  of  that  last  interview,  and  the  hope 
of  meeting  him  again  in  New  York  in  the  spring, 
iVirgie  resolved  not  to  pine,  and  gave  herself  up  to  the 
hearty  enjoyment  of  her  sight-seeing  and  other  pleas- 
ures of  the  journey. 

The  trip  proved  to  be  a  most  enjoyable  one  in  every 
way,  and  when  Virgie  returned  to  her  mother,  in 
March,  looking  rosy  and  happy,  and  full  of  life  and 
enthusiasm  over  what  she  had  recently  seen,  Mrs. 
Alexander  felt  well  repaid  for  the  loneliness  she  had 
experienced  during  this,  their  first  separation. 

Mr.  Knight  told  her  confidentially  of  Rupert  Ham- 
ilton and  his  evident  admiration  for  her  charming 
daughter,  and  warned  her  that  she  might  look  for  the 
young  man's  return  about  the  first  or  middle  of  May. 

Mrs.  Alexander  was  at  first  inclined  to  laugh  over 
the  romantic  episode,  until  her  friend  mentioned  that 
Rupert  was  an  Englishman,  whereupon  she  grew  very 
grave  and  sad. 

'T  hope  they  will  never  meet  again,"  she  said, 
sternly.    *T  do  not  want  my  child  to  marry  an  Eng- 


102 


THREADS  GATHEEED  UP 


lishman;  it  is  enough  that  her  mother's  heart  was 
broken  by  one  of  that  nationality." 

''Surely,  my  friend,  you  do  not  imagine  that  all 
Englishmen  are  knaves  simply  because  one  has  proved 
himself  such?"  said  Mr.  Knight. 

"I  suppose  I  have  no  right  to  judge  them  so,  yet  I 
have  a  prejudice  against  them  that  I  cannot  over- 
come," responded  Mrs.  Alexander,  with  a  sigh.  "I 
hope  my  darling,  if  she  ever  marries,  vv^ill  become  the 
wife  of  a  stanch  American." 

''The  young  man  is  a  noble  specimen  of  his  country- 
men, I  can  assure  you,"  Mr.  Knight  answered,  anxious 
to  do  Rupert  justice.  "I  confess  I  should  be  rather 
proud  of  him  for  a  son-in-law." 

Mrs.  Alexander  sighed  heavily,  and  did  not  reply; 
but  she  secretly  resolved  that  if  it  was  in  her  power 
to  prevent  it,  Virgie  and  her  English  admirer  should 
never  meet  again. 

April  passed  and  May  came,  and  Virgie  began  to 
grow  expectant.  She  was  blooming  into  brighter 
beauty  with  every  day,  and  seemed  to  become  more 
womanly,  so  that  her  mother  felt,  with  something 
of  sadness,  that  she  no  longer  had  her  little  girl,  but  a 
lovely  and  winsome  maiden,  who  would  doubtless 
soon  be  won  from  her  sheltering  care  to  grace  the 
home  of  another. 

She  had  been  a  beautiful  child,  but  she  was  far 
lovelier  now,  possessing  her  mother's  refined  and  deli- 
cate features  and  graceful  figure,  while  her  eyes  were 
so  like  her  father's  that  her  mother  often  suffered 
keenest  pain  as  she  looked  into  them,  and  seemed  to 
be  gazing  again  through  them  into  the  heart  of  the 
man  whom  she  had  loved  so  fondly  in  her  youth. 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


103 


Oi  late  she  had  pined  anew  for  the  affection  which 
had  g^iarded  her  so  tenderly  in  those  early  years. 

Perhaps  it  was  because  her  health  had  not  been 
as  firm  as  usual  during  the  last  few  months.  She  felt 
weary  and  depressed.  She  longed  for  some  one  to 
lean  upon — some  one  strong  and  true  to  shield  her 
from  the  cares  and  worry  of  life. 

Every  day,  during  the  first  two  weeks  of  May,  Vir- 
gie  watched  for  the  coming  of  Rupert  Hamilton. 

She  knew  that  he  expected  to  return  to  New  York 
about  this  time,  and  she  felt  sure  that  he  would  seek 
her  at  once,  while  she  believed  that  his  coming  would 
mean  a  great  deal  to  her.  There  was  an  eager,  ex- 
pectant look  on  her  young  face,  a  deeper  flush  in  her 
cheeks,  a  bright  and  hopeful  light  in  her  eyes. 

Mrs.  Alexander  read  the  signs  of  the  time  well,  and 
realized  that  the  hour  for  her  to  act  had  come. 

The  warm  weather  was  very  enervating  to  her.  She 
drooped  visibly,  and  calling  her  physician  she  asked 
his  advice  regarding  some  change  of  residence. 

He  advised  her  to  leave  the  city  immediately;  to  go 
to  some  quiet  country  place  where  she  could  have  pure 
air,  fresh,  rich  milk,  and  a  nourishing  diet. 

Consequently  she  decided  to  seek  a  lovely  place  on 
the  Hudson,  where  she  had  spent  a  summer  several 
years  previous,  and  where  she  could  be  as  quiet  as  she 
chose,  and  rest  the  livelong  day  if  she  wished. 

Miss  Knight  decided  to  accompany  her,  for  her 
brother  feared  that  the  woman  whom  he  still  regarded 
with  far  more  than  mere  friendly  feelings,  was  more 
frail  than  she  acknowledged  herself  to  be,  and  he 
thought  she  ought  to  have  some  one  more  experienced 


104 


THKEADS  GATHEEED  UE 


than  Virgie  with  her  in  the  event  of  any  more  serious 
illness. 

Mr.  Knight  himself  was  contemplating  a  trip 
through  the  New  England  States,  but  promised  to  join 
them  and  spend  the  remainder  of  the  summer  with 
them  upon  his  return. 

Poor  Virgie  was  made  very  unhappy  upon  learning 
of  these  plans,  for  it  destroyed  her  hope  of  meeting 
Rupert  Hamilton,  who,  she  believed,  was  even  now 
upon  his  way  back  to  New  York. 

She  did  not,  however,  oppose  a  single  objection  to 
her  mother's  plans,  for  the  doctor  had  said  her  health 
demanded  an  immediate  change,  and  she  was  not  self- 
ish enough  to  wish  to  delay  a  single  hour,  even  though 
her  going  might  blight  the  fondest  hopes  of  her 
life. 

But  she  could  not  deceive  the  keen  eyes  of  love,  and 
Mrs.  Alexander  was  quick  to  note  her  paling  cheek, 
the  thoughtful,  wistful  look  upon  her  hitherto  bright 
face,  and  she  realized  with  a  bitter  pang  that  already 
her  darling's  heart  had  responded  to  a  stronger  affec- 
tion than  hers. 

But  it  made  her  all  the  more  eager  to  hasten  her 
departure,  and  on  the  fifteenth  of  May  they  left  New 
lYork  for  their  summer  home  upon  the  Hudson. 

Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  Rupert,  who  arrived  in 
New  York  only  a  few  days  later,  missed  them,  and  was 
cut  off  entirely  from  all  communication  with  Virgie. 

He  sought  Mr.  Knight  upon  the  very  day  of  his 
arrival,  but  was  greatly  disappointed  to  learn  that  he 
had  left  the  city.  He  then  repaired  to  the  address 
which  he  had  given  him,  hoping  to  find  Virgie,  but  the 
house  was  closed;  and  though  he  inquired  at  one  or 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP  105 

two  places,  no  one  could  tell  whither  Mrs.  Alexander 
and  ner  daughter  had  gone. 

Life  seemed  to  grow  suddenly  dark  to  him  then,  for 
he  had  been  looking  forward  to  this  hour  with  a  great 
deal  of  hope.  It  had  been  no  light  struggle  for  him 
to  break  away  from  the  party  at  San  Jose  as  he  had 
done,  and  only  a  sense  of  honor  and  his  own  weakness 
had  enabled  him  to  do  so. 

He  knew  that  he  loved  Virgie  Alexander  with  the 
one  strong  passion  of  his  life,  and  that  if  he  had  con- 
tinued the  journey  with  her  he  must  have  told  her 
so.  I\Ir.  Knight's  conversation  wiih  him,  however, 
had  convinced  him  that  this  would  be  wrong,  and 
so  the  only  thing  that  remained  for  him  was  to  get 
out  of  the  way  of  temiptation.  But  during  all  his  jour- 
ney he  had  looked  forward  to  the  day  when,  in  her 
mother's  presence,  he  could  honorably  proclaim  his 
aftection,  which  only  strengthened  with  every  passing 
day,  and  wdn  her  for  his  wife. 

He  remained  in  New  A'ork  for  two  or  three  weeks, 
hoping  to  learn  something  of  either  Mr.  Knight  or 
the  Alexanders ;  but  he  failed  to  do  so,  and  then  turned 
his  face  in  another  diction,  resolving  to  prolong  his 
stay  in  America  until  fall,  Avith  the  hope  of  finding 
Virgie,  when  he  should  again  return  to  New  York 
before  sailing  for  England. 

He  spent  the  summer  in  visiting  the  New  England 
States,  the  great  lakes,  and  some  portions  of  Canada. 
He  saw  much  to  interest  him,  but  was  conscious  all 
the  time  of  one  intense  longing,  one  unsatisfied  de- 
sire, and  it  was  with  a  feeling  of  relief  that,  at  the 
beginning  of  October,  he  found  himself  once  more  in 
New  York. 


106  THKEADS  GATHEKED  UP  / 

Sir  William  was  very  impatient  for  his  return,  and 
had  written  charging  him  to  take  passage  as  early  as 
possible  for  home,  for  there  was  to  be  a  great  celebra- 
tion at  Heathdale  on  the  twentieth  of  the  month  to  com- 
memorate the  fiftieth  anniversary  of  the  founding  of  an 
orphans'  home. 

Consequently  Rupert's  first  duty  was  to  engage 
his  stateroom  for  his  return  voyage,  the  steamer  ad- 
vertising to  sail  on  the  eighth. 

Then  he  again  instituted  inquiries  for  his  friends, 
but  none  of  them  had  yet  returned,  neither  was  he 
able  to  discover  their  summer  resort,  and  thus  the 
eighth  of  October  came,  and,  with  a  sadder  heart 
than  he  ever  possessed,  Rupert  went  on  board  the 
Cephalonia  to  return  to  his  native  land. 

How  many  times  Sir  William  Heath  had  turned  his 
face  homeward  with  just  the  same  despair  at  his 
heart;  the  same  moody  brow,  and  pained,  anxious 
face;  the  same  intense  longing  for  the  woman  whom 
he  loved  better  than  life  itself! 

But  the  end  was  not  yet. 


raKEADS  GATHERED  UP. 


107 


CHAPTER  XII. 

AN  UNEXPECTED  MEETING. 

Rupert  stood  at  the  stern  of  the  vessel  as  the  last 
bell  rang,  and  she  slowly  swung  out  from  her  moor- 
ings and  began  to  steam  down  the  harbor. 

His  arms  were  tightly  folded  across  his  chest,  which 
seemed  laden  wath  a  hundred-pound  weight;  his  face 
w^as  pale  and  stern,  his  eyes  moody  and  fixed  upon 
the  receding  domes  and  spires  of  the  great  city  that 
he  had  just  left. 

There  was  a  conflict  of  emotions  in  his  soul,  and 
rebellion  was  the  fiercest  of  them  all — rebellion  against 
his  bitter  disappointment  and  the  unrequited  love  that 
filled  his  heart. 

He  never  moved  from  his  post  for  an  hour;  he  had 
no  interest  in  anything  that  was  transpiring  about 
him;  be  knew,  or  thought  he  knew,  no  one  on  board, 
and  he  had  no  desire  for  society  just  then,  even  if  he 
had;  he  cared  little  or  nothing  about  the  location  of 
his  state-room,  or  to  learn  who  were  to  be  his  com- 
panions during  the  next  eight  days. 

The  day  was  perfect.  It  had  been  oppressively 
warm  in  the  city,  but  there  was  a  delightful  breeze 
upon  the  ocean  and  the  air  was  delicious.  There  was 
not  a  cloud  to  be  seen,  and  the  sun  shone  around  that 
fioating  world  in  mxatchless  splendor,  tipping  every 
wave  and  ripple  made  by  the  motion  of  the  vessel 


108  THKEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


with  gleams  of  silver,  while  beyond  the  waters  were 
darkly  and  beautifully  blue. 

But  the  young  man  was  not  conscious  of  any  of  this 
beauty,  and  he  might  have  stood  there  still  another 
hour,  absorbed  in  his  own  sorrowful  reflections,  but 
for  a  little  circumstance  that  startled  and  shocked  him 
into  new  life. 

A  voice  near  him  was  saying: 

"Mamma,  do  you  think  you  would  like  to  sit  here? 
this  life-boat  makes  a  nice  shelter.  I  will  arrange  your 
chair  and  wraps,  and  I  am  sure  you  will  be  comfort- 
able/* 

"It  looks  inviting,"  was  the  pleasant  rejoinder ;  "T 
will  at  least  try  it  until  I  begin  to  experience  those 
qualms  which  all  voyagers  so  much  dread." 

A  merry  little  laugh  rang  out  at  this — a  laugh  that 
made  Rupert  Hamilton's  blood  tingle  and  glow,  and 
his  heart  beat  with  quickened  throbs;  then  the  first 
voice  responded : 

"We  are  not  going  to  have  any  qualms,  mamma.  I 
am  determined  to  be  a  good  sailor,  and  I  will  not  hear 
a  word  about  your  being  sick.  Why,  what  should  I  do 
for  company  without  you,  and  not  a  friend  to  speak 
lo  on  this  great  ship?" 

Rupert  turned  now  to  look  at  the  speaker,  his  face 
luminous  with  surprise  and  delight;  the  moody  look 
all  gone  from  his  brow,  his  fine  lips  wreathed  with 
smiles. 

At  this  movement  the  young  girl  glanced  up  and 
their  eyes  met. 

"Miss  Alexander !"  cried  the  young  man,  going  for- 
ward with  outstretched  hand. 


THEE  ADS  GATHEEED  109 

•'"Mr.  Hamilton  1"  \'irgie  stammered,  her  lovely  face 
suitused  with  blushes. 

Their  hands  met  in  an  eager  clasp,  and  'Mrs.  Alex- 
ander, viewing  this  unexpected  reunion  of  the  youth 
and  m^aiden  from  her  position  a  little  in  the  back- 
ground, and  noting  hovv*  mucli  their  looks  and  actions 
expressed,  knew  that  she  had  run  directly  into  the 
danger  she  had  been  trying  to  escape  all  summer. 

But  it  was  too  late  to  mend  matters  nov>- ;  fate  had 
ordered  it  so  to  be,  and  she  could  only  submit  to  the 
inevitable  with  as  good  a  grace  as  possible. 

'Alammia,"  \hrgie  said,  as  soon  as  she  could  collect 
lierself.  "this  is  iMr,  Hamilton,  whom  we  met  durinsr  the 
trip  to  California  ;  'Mr.  Hamilton,  let  me  introduce  you 
to  m.y  mother.  ^Irs.  Alexander." 

The  lady  and  gentleman  exchanged  greetings,  and 
then  Rupert  insisted  upon  making  himself  useful  to 
Mrs.  Alexander,  who  was  still  somxCthing  of  an  invalid, 
although  much  better  than  vrhen  we  last  saw  her 
in  May. 

He  unfolded  her  chair,  savr  her  comifortably  seated, 
and  then  arranged  her  wraps  and  rugs  so  deftly,  and 
Avas  so  kindly  attentive  to  her  needs,  so  gentlemanly 
and  entertaining  in  conversation,  that  she  was  at  once 
disarmed  of  half  her  fears  and  prejudices. 

"He  is  really  a  very  charming  young  man.''  she  ad- 
mitted to  herself,  as  she  lay  back  among  her  robes  and 
watched  his  expressive  face  while  he  talked  with  \'ir- 
gie.  "I  do  not  wonder  that  she  became  interested  in 
him.,  and.  perhaps,  after  all,  if  she  is  to  live  in  Eng- 
land, it  mio-ht  be  as  well  for  her  to  make  an  Ensflish 
alliance:  I  hope  his  family  is  a  good  one," 

That  a  great  deal  of  mischief,  if  it  could  be  regarded 


110 


THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


as  such,  had  been  done  during  those  few  weeks  of 
travel  in  the  West  was  plainly  apparent. 

Rupert  showed  his  happiness  over  this  unexpected 
meeting  in  every  look  and  gesture.  One  could  hardly 
believe  him  to  be  the  same  person,  who,  half  an  hour 
previous,  had  stood  like  some  stern  statue  looking 
back  in  despair  upon  the  city  he  was  leaving  be- 
hind ;  while  as  for  Virgie,  her  mother  scarcely  knew 
her  for  the  drooping,  pale-faced  damsel  that  she  had 
been  all  summer,  although  she  had  not  been  guilty  of 
a  single  murmur. 

Mrs.  Alexander's  health  had  improved  somewhat, 
but  she  was  far  from  strong  even  yet,  and  her  physi- 
cian had  urgently  advised  an  ocean  voyage. 

She  had  demurred  at  first,  but  when  he  said,  ''Your 
daughter,  too,  needs  the  change;  I  do  not  like  her 
looks  at  all,"  her  mother-love  prevailed,  and  she 
nerved  herself  for  her  long  contemplated  voyage  to 
England,  feeling  that  perhaps  the  proper  time  had 
come  for  her  to  act  in  the  matter  of  Virgie's  inheri- 
tance, and  thus  it  chanced — if  chance  it  was — that  they 
were  booked  for  the  same  steamer  in  which  Rupert 
had  sailed. 

But,  alas!  for  Virgie's  boast  that  she  was  "deter- 
mined to  be  a  good  sailor,"  for  she  had  not  been  on 
deck  many  hours  before  she  was  prostrated  by  that 
much  dreaded  enemy  of  all  voyagers,  sea-sickness,  and 
thus  all  the  pleasant  tete-d-tetes  and  promenades 
which  Rupert  had  begun  to  plan  immediately  upon 
discovering  that  she  was  on  board  the  steamer,  came 
to  naught. 

The  poor  girl  was  hardly  able  to  lift  her  head  from 
her  pillow  during  the  whole  voyage,  and  when  they 


THREADS  GATHEEED  UP  111 


arrived  at  Liverpool  she  was  so  reduced  that  she  had 
to  be  carried  off  the  vessel. 

She  began  to  rally  at  once,  however,  after  landing, 
and  continued  to  improve  during  the  journey  to  Lon- 
don. 

Mrs.  Alexander  had  borne  it  ail  wonderfully  well, 
suffering  but  very  little  from  ''qualms,"  which  she  had 
so  much  dreaded,  and  Rupert  having  constituted  him- 
self her  constant  attendant,  they  had  become  the  best 
of  friends  during  the  eight  days  that  they  had  spent 
together. 

When  they  arrived  in  London,  Rupert  assisted  them 
in  finding  pleasant  lodgings  in  an  excellent  locality, 
and  then  began  to  think  of  his  own  friends  at  Heath- 
dale. 

shall  be  in  London  again  soon,  and  may  I  beg 
the  privilege  of  coming  to  see  you  occasionally?"  he 
asked,  as  he  was  taking  leave  of  the  two  ladies. 

"Yes,  indeed,  we  shall  be  very  glad  to  see  you,  Mr. 
Hamilton,"  Mrs.  Alexander  rejoined,  cordially,  while 
Virgie  blushed  with  pleasure  at  the  request,  and  a  shy 
smile  dimpled  the  corners  of  her  pretty  mouth.  "But," 
she  added,  "you  have  not  yet  told  us  whither  you  are 
going — in  what  portion  of  England  is  your  home." 

"I  have  no  home  really,  as  yet,  Mrs.  Alexander,  but 
I  have  friends  in  Hampshire  County,  and  I  am  going 
to  them  for  a  while,"  Rupert  replied. 

As  was  his  custom,  he  seldom  talked  about  himself, 
and  this  was  the  first  intimation  that  Mrs.  Alexander 
had  received  of  his  having  friends  in  Hampshire,  where 
Sir  William  lived. 

She  grew  a  trifle  pale  as  he  mentioned  the  fact,  and 
longed  to  ask  him  if  he  knew  the  baronet;  but  she 


112 


THKEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


checked  herself,  and  they  separated  without  a  sus- 
picion on  her  part  of  his  being  in  any  way  connected 
with  the  man  whom  she  had  come  to  England  to 
seek. 

Mr.  Knight  had  given  her  letters  of  introduction  to 
some  friends  of  his  residing  in  Grosvenor  square,  and, 
upon  seeking  them,  she  found  them  to  be  most  de- 
lightful people. 

Sir  Humphrey  Huntington  and  his  family  occupied 
a  high  social  position  in  London,  and  thus  had  it  in 
their  power  to  make  it  very  pleasant  for  any  one  in 
whom  they  were  interested. 

They  tried  to  persuade  Mrs.  Alexander  to  come  to 
them  as  their  guest,  instead  of  remaining  in  lodgings ; 
but  she  preferred,  for  various  reasons,  to  be  inde- 
pendent, although  she  compromised  the  mater  some- 
what by  frequently  allowing  Virgie  to  visit  Sir 
Humphrey's  two  daughters,  who  were  about  her  own 
age. 

And  now  there  began  a  charmed  life  for  Virgie 
Alexander,  as,  for  the  present,  we  must  continue  to 
call  her,  since  her  mother  did  not  wish  her  to  be  in- 
troduced by  the  name  of  Heath  until  she  could  be  as- 
sured that  she  would  succeed  in  having  her  acknowl- 
edged as  the  heiress  of  Heathdale.  * 

As  soon  as  she  was  sufficiently  rested,  Mrs.  Alex- 
ander intended  to  consult  with  some  good  lawyer  and 
give  her  interests  into  his  care;  but,  meanwhile,  she 
was  willing  that  her  darling  should  enjoy  to  the  ut- 
most the  pleasures  at  hand.  ^ 

Grace  and  Helen  Huntington  were  bright  and  at- 
tractive girls,  but  neither  of  them  possessed  a  tithe 
of  the  beauty  which  the  gods  has  conferred  upon  their 


THEEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


113 


young  guest.  They  were  generous  and  kind  enough, 
too,  not  to  envy  her  for  it,  but  rather  made  a  pet  of 
her,  and  were  proud  to  entertain  the  fair  American, 
who  soon  became  an  acknowledged  belle. 

The  Huntingtons  were  in  the  habit  of  giving  fort- 
nightly  receptions  to  some  of  the  bon  ton,  of  London, 
and  it  was  at  one  of  these  gatherings  that  Virgie  made 
her  debut  in  society. 

She  had  never  been  much  in  company,  having  left 
school  only  the  previous  year,  but  now  she  entered 
into  the  enjoyment  of  everything  with  all  the  enthusi- 
asm of  her  girlish  nature. 

She  was  very  lovely  on  the  evening  of  her  first  ap- 
pearance at  a  reception  at  Lady  Huntington's. 

She  came  into  the  great  drawing-room  leaning  on 
the  arm  of  Helen  Huntington,  a  sparkling  brunette, 
clad  in  garnet  silk. 

Virgie's  mother  had  taken  great  pains  with  her 
toilet,  and  it  was  absolutely  perfect.  It  was  of  finest 
albatross  cloth,  combined  with  white  satin,  fitting  her 
slender  form  like  a  glove,  and  draped  in  the  most 
artistic  manner,  while  the  scarlet  flowers,  gleaming 
here  and  there  among  the  graceful  folds,  made  a  very 
pleasing  effect. 

Her  nut-brown  hair  was  loosely  coiled  and  fastened 
with  a  small  silver  comb,  while  a  few  light  rings  lay 
in  careless  array  upon  her  pure  forehead.  Her  dark 
eyes  were  gleaming  with  excitem.ent  and  anticipation ; 
her  cheeks  were  slightly  flushed,  and  her  red  lips 
wreathed  with  happy  smiles. 

*'Who  is  that  beautiful  girl  in  white,  with  scarlet 
verbenas?"  asked  a  distinguished-looking  woman,  who< 


114  THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


was  conversing  with  Lady  Huntington,  as  Virgin 
entered  the  room. 

"She  is  a  young  American  for  whom  a  friend  of  my 
husband  bespoke  our  hospitaHty  and  attention." 

"Ah!"  replied  the  other,  looking  interested,  and 
raising  her  glass  for  a  better  view  of  the  stranger. 
"I  might  have  known.  We  have  few  beauties  of  that 
delicate  type  in  this  country.   What  is  her  name?" 

But  the  woman  started  even  as  she  asked  the  ques- 
tion, while  her  glance  searced  Virgie's  face  with  an 
eager,  wondering  look.  Something  in  its  delicate  out- 
lines and  striking  beauty  seemed  to  arouse  long  dor- 
mant memories. 

"Miss  Alexander,"  said  Lady  Huntington;  "she  and 
lier  mother  arrived  from  New  York  only  ten  days 
ago.  Would  you  like  an  introduction?  She  is  very 
charming,  and  wonderfully  well  informed  for  a  girl 
of  her  age." 

"Um! — yes,  presently;  but          Sadie,  do  tell  me 

who  she  looks  like !"  and  Mrs.  Farnum,  for  it  was  she, 
turned  to  a  queenly  woman  near  by,  to  draw  her  at- 
tention to  the  fair  stranger. 

Sadie  Farnum,  or  Lady  Royalston,  as  she  was  now 
known,  had  long  since  resigned  all  hope  of  becoming 
the  mistress  of  Heathdale,  and,  having  married  a 
wealthy  lord  twice  her  age,  had  given  herself  up  to 
fashion  and  society. 

"Of  whom  are  you  speaking,  mamma?" 

"Of  that  girl  who  is  standing  beside  Helen  Hunt- 
ington.  Of  whom  does  she  remind  you?" 

"I  am  sure  I  cannot  tell,"  Lady  Royalston  an- 
swered, searching  the  bright  face  to  which  her  atten- 
tion had  been  called.  "It  certainly  has  a  familiar  look, 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


115 


and  yet  one  that  I  cannot  place.    She  is  very  pretty." 

Mrs.  Farnum  did  not  reply,  but  continued  to  follow 
every  movement  of  that  graceful  form,  every  expres- 
sion of  the  sweet  countenance,  while  she  searched  the 
chambers  of  her  memory  for  its  counterpart  and  the 
circumstances  under  which  she  had  seen  it. 

Presently  the  two  girls  approached  Lady  Hunting- 
ton, when  she  passed  her  arm  around  Virgie's  slight 
waist,  saying: 

"My  dear,  I  wish  to  introduce  you  to  an  old  friend 
who  has  been  inquiring  about  you.  Mrs.  Farnum, 
allow  me  to  present  our  young  guest,  Miss  Yirgie 
Alexander." 


lie 


ffHKEADS  GATHERED  UE 


CHAPTER  Xni. 

Rupert's  request. 

^  "Virgie  Alexander!"  repeated  Mrs.  Farnum  to  her- 
self, as  she  acknowledged  the  presentation,  and  it  al- 
most seemed  as  if  some  one  had  struck  a  blow  upon 
her  heart  as  she  recalled  that  long-forgotten  name 
and  looked  into  that  delicate,  clear-cut  face,  while  a 
vision  from  out  of  the  past  suddenly  rose  to  confront 
her. 

She  saw  the  tall,  slight  figure  of  a  beautiful  woma^a, 
very  like  this  young  girl,  standing  straight  and  proud 
before  her,  as,  with  a  face  of  agony  and  a  voice  full 
of  despair,  she  asserted  her  own  purity  and  her  child's 
legitimacy,  and  hurled  back  scorn  for  scorn  upon  the 
arrogant  women  who  repudiated  her  claim  and  tried 
to  crush  her  with  a  vile  conspiracy. 

Again  she  seemed  to  hear  those  ringing,  prophetic? 
words,  "My  child  is  also  the  lawful  child  of  Sir  Will-' 
iam  Heath;  she  is  the  heiress  of  Heathdale,  and  she 
shall  yet  occupy  the  position  that  rightfully  belongs 
to  her.  Let  your  'peer  of  the  realm  and  his  honored 
j family'  take  warning;  the  time  will  come  when  a 
righteous  judgment  will  overtake  them." 

She  shivered  slightly  as  she  recalled  all  this  and  Vir- 
gie  wondered  what  should  make  the  fine-looking 
woman  grow  so  suddenly  pale,  and  why  she  should 
regard  her  with  such  a  fixed  and  startled  gaze. 

But  she  gave  the  circumstance  only  a  passing 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


111 


thought,  and  then  turned  to  speak  to  Lady  Royalston, 
to  whom  Lady  Huntington  also  presented  her,  only  to 
find  herself  again  the  object  of  a  curious  and  aston- 
ished stare. 

Sadie  Farnum  turned  to  her  mother  as  the  maiden 
passed  on,  and  the  eyes  of  the  two  women,  as  they 
met,  expressed  a  great  deal. 

"Her  name  is  Virgie,  and  she  looks  like  that  wom- 
an,'* whispered  ^Irs.  Farnum,  in  an  agitated  voice. 

''She  certainly  does;  but  Lady  Huntington  intro- 
duced her  as  Miss  Alexander,''' 

"Don't  you  understand?  That  was  the  name  of  her 

father — that  man  who  defaulted  from  the    bank, 

in  San  Francisco.'* 

''True !  I  had  forgotten.  But — it  cannot  be  possi- 
ble  that  this  girl  was  that  baby?" 

"Why  not?"  She  is  just  about  the  age  that  child 
would  be.  You  know,  it  is  eighteen  years  since  we 
were  in  America." 

"So  it  is.  How  time  does  fly  I"  Lady  Royalston  re- 
marked,  with  a  sigh  of  regret  for  the  lost  hopes  of  her 
youth. 

"And,  you  know,  that  girl  threatened  to  come  to 
England  some  time  to  claim  her  position." 

Mrs.  Farnum  had  confided  all  the  plot  against  Vir- 
gie to  her  daughter  after  their  return  to  England,  and 
upon  learning  that  a  divorce  between  Sir  William 
Heath  and  his  wife  had  been  secured,  she  had  gath- 
ered fresh  hope  that  Sadie  would  yet  become  Lady 
Heath. 

"I  know  you  said  she  did;  but  so  many  years  have 
elapsed  without  anything  happening,  I  supposed  she 


118  THKEADS  GATHEKED  UF 


had  given  up  that  idea,  particularly  as  she  obtained  a 
divorce.'' 

*'She  was  a  high-spirited  thing,"  replied  Mrs.  Far- 
num,  with  a  troubled  look,  ''and  I  believe  she  procured 
a  legal  separation  simply  to  show  him  that  she  would 
not  hold  him  bound  if  he  wished  to  be  free;  but  I 
imagine  that  she  has  never  relinquished  the  determina- 
tion to  prove  her  child  the  heiress  of  Heathdale.  I 
am  afraid  Lady  Linton's  plans  will  come  to  grief  after 
all,  and  if  they  do,  we  may  become  involved  in  the  un- 
pleasant business." 

Lady  Royalston  looked  disturbed  for  a  moment,  then 
she  replied: 

'Tshaw!  I  would  not  worry  over  a  fancied  resem- 
blance." 

"It  is  not  fancied,"  returned  her  mother,  "it  is  very 
striking.  You  have  seen  it  as  well  as  I." 
"Where  is  the  girl's  mother?" 

"I  do  not  know.  Lady  Huntington  simply  said  that 
they  arrived  from  New  York  ten  days  ago,  bringing 
a  letter  to  Sir  Humphrey  from  a  friend  who  requested 
his  hospitality  for  them." 

"If  that  is  the  case,  they  must  have  been  moving  in 
good  society,"  remarked  Lady  Royalston,  reflectively. 

"Yes;  and  they  must  have  means.  Did  you  notice 
the  girl's  toilet?  It  was  simply  exquisite." 

"Yes;  the  finest  of  everything,  and  in  the  best  of 
taste.  I  cannot  understand  it,  for  you  told  me  that  Sir 
William  brought  all  his  wife's  fortune  back  to  Eng- 
land with  him." 

"She  told  me  so  herself!  but  she  must  have  found 
another  somewhere,  or  they  could  not  come  here  in 
this  style." 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


'Terhaps  she  has  married  again/*  suggested  Ladjr 
Royalston. 

"No,  indeed.  Don't  you  understand?  She  still  re- 
tains her  maiden  name,  with  simply  the  'Mrs/  added. 
I  must  find  out  more  about  them.  I  will  pump  Lady 
Huntington  again  before  we  leave,"  Mrs.  Farnum 
concluded,  rather  inelegantly. 

She  was  as  good  as  her  word,  but  all  that  she  could 
learn  was  that  Mrs.  Alexander  had  come  abroad  for 
her  health — that  she  and  her  daughter  were  traveling 
alone.  Lady  Huntington  believed  she  was  a  widow, 
but  judged  she  must  have  lost  her  husband  many 
years  ago,  since  she  never  mentioned  him,  and  wore 
no  weeds.  She  said  she  was  not  able  to  go  much  into 
society,  being  still  something  of  an  invalid,  although 
much  better  than  before  her  voyage. 

This  was  not  very  satisfactory  to  Mrs.  Farnum, 
and  she  felt  very  uneasy. 

must  see  the  woman  for  myself,"  she  told  her 
daughter.  ''I  should  know  her  at  once,  and  I  shall 
not  rest  until  I  do.  I  sincerely  wish  we  had  never 
meddled  with  that  wretched  business." 

"I  wish  so,  too,"  sighed  Lady  Royalston,  but  it  was 
more  for  her  mother's  sake  than  her  own,  for,  as 
we  know,  her  sympathies  had  been  with  the  poor 
young  wife  when  they  were  together  in  New  York. 

But  Virgie,  all  unconscious  of  the  anxiety  which 
here  presence  had  created,  was  enjoying  herself  ex- 
ceedingly. 

She  attracted  a  great  deal  of  attention,  and  was  soon 
surrounded  by  a  group  of  admirers  who  vied  with  each 
other  in  doing  homage  to  the  lovely  young  American, 
while  the  Misses  Huntington  appeared  to  enjoy  her 


m 


i?HKEADS  GATHEKED  UB 


conquests  as  if  they  were  themselves  the  recipients 
of  similar  honors. 

But,  in  the  midst  of  her  triumphs,  Virgie  chanced 
to  glance  toward  the  entrance  to  the  drawing-room 
and  saw  standing  there  a  figure  that  sent  all  the  blood 
tingling  to  her  finger-tips;  and,  as  she  met  the  eyes 
that  were  fixed  so  admiringly  upon  her,  her  own  sent 
back  a  responsive  glance  which  made  Rupert  Hamil- 
ton forget  that  there  was  anyone  else  in  the  room  and 
start  forward  to  greet  her,  regardless  of  the  charmed 
circle  about  her  which  he  must  pass. 

*'Miss  Alexander!"  he  said,  in  a  low,  earnest  tone, 
*'I  did  not  anticipate  this  pleasure  when  I  came  hither 
to-night." 

''And  you  are  a  surprise  to  me,"  Virgie  answered, 
blushing  slightly.  "I  did  not  know  that  you  were  in 
town.    Have  you  been  well  since  we  parted?" 

*'Very;  and  I  do  not  need  to  ask  if  you  fully  recov- 
ered from  the  effects  of  your  voyage,"  he  returned, 
with  a  glance  that  made  her  pulses  leap. 

"I  am,  indeed,  very  well,"  she  said,  "and  mamma  is 
also  very  much  improved,  although  she  does  not  feel  quite 
equal  to  society  yet.   Did  you  find  your  friends  well?" 

"Yes,  thank  you,"  Rupert  answered,  but  his  face  fell 
at  the  question,  for  it  brought  Lillian  so  forcibly  to 
his  mind.  She  had  betrayed  so  much  joy  upon  his  re- 
turn that  he  had  been  painfully  embarrassed  and  dis- 
tressed upon  her  account. 

"Have  you  been  long  in  London?"  Virgie  asked, 
wondering  what  caused  the  cloud  upon  his  brow. 

"Can  you  ask  that?"  he  returned,  with  a  look  that 
made  her  own  eyes  droop.  "I  arrived  this  evening 
with  my  guardian,  and,  finding  cards  for  Lady  Hunt- 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


121 


ington's  reception,  dropped  in  to  pay  my  regards  to 
the  young  ladies ;  but  I  could  not  be  long  in  London 
without  availing  myself  of  the  privilege  that  I  craved 
when  we  parted.  But,"  glancing  around  and  realizing 
that  their  meeting  was  attracting  more  attention  than 
was  agreeable,  "will  you  let  me  take  you  out  for  an 
ice?  It  is  very  warm  here." 

\'irgie  gladly  availed  herself  of  this  invitation,  for 
his  sudden  coming  had  agitated  her,  and  she  did  not 
feel  quite  at  her  ease,  while  she,  too,  saw  that  her 
meeting  with  Rupert  had  excited  considerable  sur- 
prise in  the  group  around  her. 

The  young  man  led  her  to  a  small  reception-roonr, 
found  her  a  comfortable  chair,  and  then  remarked : 

'''Xow,  if  you  will  excuse  me  for  a  moment,  I  wili 
get  an  ice  for  you." 

*'Tlease  do  not,'"  Mrgie  interrupted,  laying  her  hand 
lightly  on  his  arm  to  detain  him;  "I  do  not  care  for  it. 
I  was  only  glad  of  an  excuse  to  get  away  from  the 
crowd  for  a  few  minutes'  quiet  chat  with  you  " 

She  stopped  suddenly  and  colored  with  confusion  at 
her  confession ;  but  Rupert,  with  a  radiant  glow  on  his 
face,  drew  a  chair  and  sat  down  beside  her. 

'Thank  you,"  he  said;  ''and  now  tell  me  how  have 
you  enjoyed  London  during  the  last  ten  days/" 

"I  am  afraid  my  enjoyment  of  London  has  been 
rather  doubtful,"  Virgie  returned,  laughing,  ''since  I 
have  seen  scarcely  anything  of  it  for  the  fog  and  rain; 
but  I  have  met  a  good  many  people  whom  I  consider 
simply  delightful." 

"And,  judging  fi-om  the  court  you  were  holding 
"vvhen  I  came  in  to-night,  those  very  people  would  re- 


122  THKEADS  GATHEKED  UP 

turn  the  compliment  most  heartily,"  said  Rupert,  smil- 
ing. 

''Did  your  guardian  accompany  you  this  evening?" 
Virgie  asked,  by  way  of  changing  the  subject. 

*'No ;  he  was  rather  weary,  and  begged  me  to  make 
his  excuses  to  Lady  Huntington." 

"You  have  never  told  me  who  your  guardian  is,  Mr. 
Hamilton." 

''Haven't  I?  Then  I  have  been  very  negligent,  for  he 
is  the  best  friend  I  have  in  the  world.  He  is  Sir 
William  Heath,  and  I  hope  to  have  an  opportunity  to 
introduce  you  to  him  soon." 

"Do  you  intend  to  remain  in  London?"  Virgie 
asked. 

"For  the  present.  Sir  William  Heath  has  a  house 
in  town,  and  we  shall  all  be  here  for  several  weeks. 
By  'air  I  mean  Sir  William's  sister.  Lady  Linton,  her 
daughter  Lillian,  who  is  a  young  lady  a  little  older 
than  yourself,  and — your  humble  servant,"  explained 
Rupert. 

"Lady  Linton!'^  Virgie  repeated,  thoughtfully; 
"where  have  I  heard  that  name  before?  It  is  very 
familiar,  and  yet  I  cannot  recall  the  person  to  whom 
it  belongs." 

"Very  likely  you  have  heard  it  spoken  in  society 
here,  as  Lady  Linton  is  in  the  habit  of  going  out  a 
good  deal  when  in  town,"  returned  the  young  man. 

"Perhaps  so,"  Virgie  assented,  and  yet  almost  posi- 
tive she  had  heard  it  before  ever  coming  to  London. 

They  chatted  a  little  longer,  and  then  the  young 
girl  said  she  must  return  to  the  company,  and  Rupert, 
giving  her  his  arm,  conducted  her  back  to  the  drawing- 
room. 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP  123 

Eut  once  there,  she  was  again  surrounded  by  a 
merry  company,  and  he  had  no  further  opportunity 
to  converse  with  her. 

The  next  morning,  however,  he  called  at  !Mrs.  Alex- 
ander's lodgings,  and  was  very  cordially  received  by 
that  lady,  whom  he  found  looking  far  better  than  he 
had  ever  seen  her. 

She  was  rapidly  regaining  flesh  and  strength,  and 
much  of  her  old-time  beauty  as  well.  He  had  not 
realized  until  now  how  very  lonely  she  was. 

Virgie  was  not  in  when  he  arrived — she  was  out 
driving  with  the  blisses  Huntington,  her  mother  told 
him — and,  knowing  that  he  could  not  long  refrain 
from  speaking  of  his  love  for  the  beautiful  girl,  he 
resolved  that  he  would  improve  this  opportunity  and 
crave  ^Irs.  Alexander's  permission  to  address  her 
daughter  with  the  hope  of  winning  her  for  his 
wife. 

But  how  to  broach  the  subject  so  near  his  heart 
was  an  embarrassing  question,  and  after  the  first  few 
moments  he  became  thoughtful,  and  even  pale,  caus- 
ing Mrs.  Alexander  to  wonder  if  anything  had  gone 
wrong  with  him  since  his  return. 

'T  am  afraid  your  native  air  does  not  agree  with 
you,  ]\Ir.  Hamilton,"  said  his  hostess,  breaking  an 
awkward  pause;  *''you  are  not  looking  as  we.U  as  when 
I  saw  you  last." 

The  truant  color  rushed  into  the  young  man's  face 
in  a  torrent  at  this  remark,  and  he  made  a  bold  ven- 
ture, resolved  to  put  his  fate  to  the  test  at  once. 

"It  is  not  my  'native  air.'  'Mrs.  Alexander,"  he  an- 
swered, smiling  slightly  :  ''but.  finding  you  alone  this 
morning,  I  have  been  impelled  to  confess  something 


124 


THKEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


to  you,  and  yet  I  find  myself  lacking  the  courage  to 
break  the  ice.'* 

"Surely,  I  did  not  suppose  that  I  was  one  to  inspire 
fear  in  anyone,"  remarked  his  friend,  archly. 

"You  are  not;  but  when  one's  dearest  hopes  are  at 
stake,  it  is  sometimes  hard  to  speak  of  them,"  Rupert 
answered,  gravely;  then  added,  frankly:  "Mrs.  Alex- 
ander, you  must  have  suspected  ere  this  how  fondly 
I  love  your  daughter.  I  have  loved  her  ever  since  our 
meeting  on  that  California  trip  last  winter,  and  I  have 
only  been  waiting  for  your  sanction  to  my  suit  to  open 
my  heart  to  her.  I  hoped  to  see  you  last  spring  on  my 
return  to  New  York,  but  you  had  left  the  city  and  I 
could  not  learn  your  address.  I  then  resolved  to  seek 
you  again  at  the  end  of  the  summer,  but  you  were 
still  absent  when  I  came  back  the  last  of  September. 
You  can,  perhaps,  imagine  something  of  my  disap- 
pointment— I  may  even  say  despair  when  I  found 

that  I  must  return  to  England  with  no  hope  of  con- 
fessing my  love  to  Virgie.  I  do  not  need  to  tell  you 
that  I  experienced  a  sudden  ecstasy  when  I  discovered 
that  you  w^ere  both  on  the  same  vessel  with  me  and 
bound  for  the  same  port,  and  I  could  not  have  re- 
mained silent  as  long  as  I  have,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
illness  which  kept  my  dear  one  a  prisoner  in  her 
berth  during  our  voyage.  I  know  that  I  am,  compara- 
tively, a  stranger  to  you,  but  you  are  so  situated  now 
that  you  can  easily  ascertain  whether  what  I  have  to 
offer  Virgie — a  true  heart,  an  untarnished  name,  and 
all  that  I  have  of  this  world's  goods — is  worthy  of 
her  acceptance.  Mrs.  Alexander,  will  you  give  me 
leave  to  try  to  win  her?" 


THEE  ADS  GATHERED  UP. 


X25 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  BETROTHAL. 

Islrs.  Alexander  smiled  at  the  young  lover's  ardor, 
while  she  regarded  his  handsome,  earnest  face  with  a 
look  almost  of  affection. 

'■•'Mr.  Hamilton,"  she  said,  as  he  concluded,  '*'to  be 
frank  with  you,  I  must  tell  you  that  I  have  been  ex- 
pecting a  request  of  this  nature  from  you." 

Rupert  looked  a  trifle  surprised  at  this  declaration. 

"A  mother's  eyes  are  very  sharp,"  the  lady  resumed, 
''and  it  has  not  required  much  penetration  to  see  that 
you  were  learning  to  regard  my  Virgie  with  more 
than  friendly  affection ;  besides,  ^Mr.  Knight  told  me 
of  the  conversation  that  he  had  with  you  at  San  Jose, 
and  warned  me  of  what  I  might  expect  when  you  re- 
turned to  New  York.  And  now  I  will  confess  to  you 
freely  that  I  was  very  much  opposed  to  the  idea  of  having 
Virgie  become  the  wife  of  an  Englishman.  I  had 
reason  for  the  prejudice,  which  I  will  explain  to  you 
some  other  time;  and  I  resolved  you  two  should  not 
meet  again  if  I  could  help  it.  I  did  help  it.  as  you 
know;  that  was  the  reason  why  I  left  New  York  so 
early;  but  only  to  be  overreached  by  fate,  which  de- 
creed that  we  should  all  come  aboard  at  the  same  time. 
The  moment  Virgie  introduced  you  to  me,  on  board 
the  Cephalonia.  I  felt  that  I  was  powerless,  and  so  re- 
signed myself  to  the  inevitable.  I  must  admit,  how- 
ever," ;Mrs.  Alexander  added,  with  a  genial  smile. 


126  THKEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


"that  I  was  disarmed  of  my  prejudices  before  I  had 
known  you  many  hours,  and  as  I  became  better  ac- 
quainted with  you,  I  could  but  acknowledge  with  Mr. 
Knight,  who,  by  the  way,  is  a  strong  champion  in  your 
favor,  that  I  should  be  proud  to  give  my  daughter 
to  so  true  a  man;  and  so,  Mr.  Hamilton,  you  have  my 
full  and  free  permission  to  win  my  darling  if  you  can, 
and  " 

"Oh,  thank  you !"  Rupert  cried,  seizing  his  com- 
panion's hand  in  his  gratitude,  his  face  luminous  with 
joy;  ''you  have  made  me  the  happiest  man  in  Lon- 
don." 

"I  like  to  see  young  people  happy,"  Mrs.  Alexander 
replied,  still  smiling,  but  with  a  Httle  sigh ;  **and  I 
imagine  it  is  safe  to  tell  you  I  think  you  have  no  cause 
for  fear.  But  now  tell  me  something  about  yourself 
and  your  family;  I  should  not  like  to  make  inquiries 
about  you  of  other  people." 

''There  is  not  very  much  to  tell,"  Rupert  said.  "I 
am  an  orphan ;  my  mother  died  when  I  was  an  infant ; 
my  father  was  a  major  in  her  majesty's  service,  and 
the  only  relatives  I  have  living  are  an  uncle  and.  his 
family,  by  the  name  of  Shaftonsbury,  so  my  home  has 
been  with  my  guardian  in  Hampshire  County  " 

"Ah!  Hampshire!  Who  is  your  guardian?"  hastily 
asked  Mrs.  Alexander,  paling  a  little  at  the  familiar 
name. 

"He  was  my  father's  dearest  friend,  Sir  "  began 

Rupert,  but  before  he  could  speak  the  name  the  door 
opened,  and  Virgie,  looking  flushed  and  beautiful  from 
her  exercise  in  the  open  air,  stood  upon  the  threshold, 
and  the  young  man,  forgetting  both  question  and  an* 
swer,  sprang  forward  to  greet  her. 


THEE ADS  GATHEKED  UP 


127 


The  conversation  became  general  then  for  a  little 
while ;  but  by  and  by  !Mrs.  Alexander  excused  herself, 
saying  she  had  letters  to  write,  and  left  the  young 
couple  alone. 

Rupert's  eyes  had  been  seeing  a  great  deal  ever 
since  Virgie  came  in;  so  much  that  she  could  not  meet 
them  without  her  color  coming  and  going  with  tell- 
tale consciousness :  and  when,  the  mom.ent  the  door 
closed  after  her  mother,  he  arose  and  came  to  her  side, 
she  knew  instinctively  what  was  trembling  on  his 
lips. 

"My  darling/'  he  said,  in  a  low,  earnest  tone,  "I 
have  just  told  your  mother  that  I  love  you,  and  she  has 
given  me  leave  to  win  you  if  I  can.  Virgie,  I  have 
loved  you  ever  since  those  delightful  days  that  we 
spent  together  on  the  way  to  California,  I  might  have 
told  you  of  it  even  then,  had  not  islr.  Knight  and  my 
own  sense  of  what  was  right  warned  me  against  it. 
But  now,  dearest,  there  are  no  barriers,  unless  you 
yourself  raise  one  between  us,  and  my  heart  bids  me 
hope  that  you  will  not.  Tell  me,  dear,  that  you  love 
me — that  you  will  be  my  wife." 

He  knelt  by  her  side  and  gathered  the  two  small 
hands  that  lay  upon  her  lap  into  his,  while  he  searched 
the  lovely  downcast  face  with  his  eager  eyes. 

She  did  not  repulse  him;  she  made  no  effort  even  to 
release  her  hands  from  his  clasp.  She  cast  one  shy, 
sweet  glance  into  his  face,  a  little  smile  of  love  and  joy 
trembled  on  her  lips,  while  rosy  blushes  surged  up  to 
the  waves  of  bright  hair  lying  on  her  forehead,  and 
Rupert  needed  no  other  answer  to  assure  him  of  his 
heart's  desire. 

"You  do  love  me,  my  darling!"  he  cried,  drawing 


128 


THKEADS  GATHEKED  UE 


her  into  his  arms.  "I  read  it  in  your  dear  face,  in 
your  beautiful  eyes ;  but  let  me  hear  it  from  your  lips. 
I  am  selfish  enough  not  to  be  satisfied  with  anything 
less.  Virgie,  you  will  give  yourself  to  me?" 

"Yes,"  she  whispered,  her  head  drooping  until  her 
hair  almost  mingled  with  his;  ''you  made  me  love  you 
on  that  journey." 

"Oh,  if  I  had  known  it  then  I  fear  I  could  not  have 
held  my  peace,"  he  interrupted,  laying  his  lips  fondly 
against  her  forehead.  "I  had,  in  fact,  to  run  away 
from  you  at  San  Jose  lest  I  should  violate  all  bonds 
and  betray  myself  in  spite  of  the  caution  of  Mr. 
Knight,  who  said  I  must  wait  until  you  were  safely 
back  with  your  mother." 

"Did  Mr.  Knight  suspect?"  faltered  Virgie,  grow- 
ing crimson  again. 

"Indeed  he  did.  He  is  a  very  observing  old  gen- 
tleman, and  took  me  to  task  for  monopolizing  you  so 
much.  He  was  right,  too,  dear,  for  it  would  have  been 
rash  and  imprudent  for  me  to  have  tried  to  win  you 
then,  and  I  honored  him  for  restraining  me,  though 
it  required  a  terrible  wrench  for  me  to  tear  myself 
away  from  you;  but  I  knew  my  only  safety  was  in 
flight.  I  resolved,  however,  that  I  would  settle  the 
question  when  I  returned  to  New  York;  but  I  was  i 
very  miserable  when  I  came  back  in  May  and  could  * 
not  find  you." 

"And  I,  too,  Rupert,"  Virgie  confessed.  "I  thought 
it  is  very  hard  when  the  doctor  ordered  mamma  away 
just  at  the  very  time  when  I  was  looking  for  you;  but 
of  course  I  could  not  say  a  word,  for  her  health  was 
of  more  importance  than  anything  else,  while  " 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


129 


*'While  what,  Virgie?"  her  lover  asked,  as  she 
stopped  in  confusion. 

''While  I  was  not  sure  but  that  I  was  nourishing  a 
delusion ;  and,  taking  it  all  in  all,  I  was  very 
wretched." 

*'Ah!  and  you  have  been  loving  me  all  this  time?" 
Rupert  breathed,  as  he  bent  to  kiss  the  lips  that  had 
confessed  so  much.  ''And  I  have  been  fearing  that 
you  might  send  me  away  hopeless." 

"I  could  not  send  you  away,  Rupert." 

"Oh,  Virgie,  I  hope  I  shall  not  wake  to  find  this  all 
a  dream,"  he  breathed,  as  he  folded  her  closer  in  his 
arms,  and  drew  her  head  upon  his  breast. 

"Do  not  fear,"  the  young  girl  returned,  looking 
archly  up  into  his  eyes.  "I  assure  you  I  have  ample 
evidence  that  you  are  very  much  av/ake  now,  and,  if 
you  please,  it  won't  do  to  disarrange  my  hair  too 
much,  for  Grace  Huntington  is  coming  back  in  an 
hour  to  help  me  plan  for  Lady  Danforth's  ball  that  is 
to  occur  next  week." 

Rupert  laughed,  but  released  her,  smoothing  very 
tenderly  the  tresses  that  he  had  disarranged;  then 
seating  himself  on  the  sofa  beside  her,  he  asked: 

"How  will  it  be,  my  Virgie — can  you  be  content  to 
remain  in  England,  or  are  you  such  a  stanch  Ameri- 
can that  you  will  pine  for  your  native  land?" 

"It  is  said  that  'home  is  where  the  heart  is,'  and  if 
you  are  to  live  in  England,  I  am  afraid  that  America 
would  not  seem  very  home-like  to  me,  even  though 
it  was  my  birthplace,"  Virgie  confessed,  with  a  shy 
smile  that  was  very  bewildering. 

"Then  you  will  not  mind  becoming  an  English  ma- 
tron?" Rupert  observed,  with  a  caress  that  again  en- 
dangered the  glossy  tresses. 


130 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


*'Yes,  I  think  I  shall  mind  it  very  much/*  Virgie 
retorted;  ''so  much  that  I  should  be  unhappy  to  be 
anything  else.  Besides,"  she  added,  more  gravely, 
''my  father  was  an  Englishman/' 

"Is  it  possible?  But  I  do  not  think  that  Alexander 
is  an  English  name,"  Rupert  returned.  "Of  what  por- 
tion of  England  was  he  a  native?" 

"I  do  not  know,  Rupert,"  Virgie  said,  looking  trou- 
bled. "I  imagine  there  is  something  about  my  father 
that  mamma  has  never  been  willing  to  tell  me.  She 
always  grows  so  sad  and  pale  whenever  I  speak  of 
him  that  I  have  not  the  heart  to  question  her,  although, 
as  I  have  grown  older,  I  have  been  very  desirous  of 
knowing  more  concerning  him." 

"Do  you  remember  him?" 

"Oh,  no;  I  never  saw  him.  He  was  called  home  to 
England  a  few  weeks  before  my  birth,  and  was  lost." 

"Lost  at  sea!  How  sad!  Mrs.  Alexander  must  have 
been  very  young." 

"Yes,  she  was  only  a  little  over  twenty." 

"You  will  probably  visit  your  father's  home  now 
that  you  are  here,"  Rupert  remarked. 

"I  asked  mamma  that  one  day,  and  she  grew  so 
white  that  I  was  frightened.  She  remarked  that  that 
was  one  object  she  had  in  coming  abroad,  but  it  was 
chiefly  for  my  sake ;  and  then  she  shivered  as  if  there 
was  something  about  it  that  she  regarded  with  great 
dread.    But  hush !  she  is  coming  back  to  us." 

Mrs.  Alexander  entered  at  that  moment,  and  smiled 
as  she  saw  the  happy  faces  of  the  two  young  lovers, 
although  Virgie  was  sure  that  there  was  a  suspicious 
redness  about  her  eyes,  as  if  she  had  been  weeping. 

"I  have  won  her,  Mrs.  Alexander,"  Rupert  said, 
taking  Virgie  by  the  hand  and  leading  her  to  her 


THEE ADS  GATHEKED  UP 


131 


mother.  "This  dear  girl  has  promised  to  be  my  wife, 
and  I  am  sure  you  will  give  us  your  blessing  and 
congratulations." 

''Indeed  I  will,"  she  responded,  heartily,  though  she 
appeared  greatly  agitated  as  she  drew  Virgie  into  her 
arms  and  tenderly  kissed  her  blushing  cheek;  "and  I 
give  her  to  you  very  willingly,  because  I  feel  sure  that 
you  are  worthy  of  her,  and  I  am  confident  that  you 
will  make  each  other  happy.  Still,"  she  added,  a  little 
sadness  in  her  voice,  "it  is  not  an  easy  thing  for  a 
mother  to  give  away  her  only  child,  or  to  feel  that  she 
has  been  supplanted  in  her  affections." 

"Not  supplanted,  mamma — do  not  say  that !"  cried 
Virgie,  clinging  to  her;  "it  could  not  be !  I  could  never 
love  you  less,  even  though  I  " 

"Even  though  you  love  Rupert  more,"  interposed 
her  mother,  archly.  "I  expect  that,  of  course,  and 
would  not  have  it  otherwise.  I  wish  you  to  be  all 
in  all  to  each  other,  and,"  her  voice  growing  husky 
with  emotion,  "may  no  cloud  ever  dim  your  happi- 
ness ;  may  nothing  ever  come  between  you  to  mar  your 
confidence  in  each  other.  Oh,  my  darling!"  she  cried, 
in  a  voice  of  agony,  as  she  folded  the  lovely  girl  almost 
convulsively  to  her  heart,  and  seeming  to  forget  for 
the  moment  where  she  was,  "I  would  rather  lay  you 
away  in  your  grave  to-day  than  to  have  you  live  to 
suffer  what  I  have  suffered." 

"Mamma,"  cried  Virgie,  looking  up  anxiously  into 
the  almost  convulsed  face  bending  over  her,  "what 
can  you  mean?  I  have  never  seen  you  so  unnerved  be- 
fore. Surely  if  you  are  in  trouble,  you  should  not 
hide  it  from  me." 

"Forgive  me,  love,  for  casting  a  shadow  upon  your 
joy  at  this  time,"  said  her  mother,  recovering  herself 


132 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


with  an  effort;  ''but  your  happiness  brought  back  all 
my  own  early  hopes — hopes  that  were  most  cruelly 
blighted — so  vividly  that  I  forgot  myself.  Do  not 
mind  me,  Virgie;  your  future  looks  very  bright,  and 
I  have  done  wrong  even  to  allude  to  anything  to  dis- 
tress you  on  this  day  of  all  others." 

Virgie  stood  back  and  looked  gravely  into  her  moth- 
er's face, 

*'Mamma,"  she  said,  with  a  seriousness  that  was 
new  to  her,  "I  fear  that  you  have  been  hiding  some- 
thing from  me  all  my  life.  I  have  often  suspected  it, 
and  your  excessive  agitation  this  morning  proves  it. 
If  you  have  known  any  great  trouble  in  the  past ;  if,  as 
I  surmise,  it  is  connected  with  my  father,  I  feel  that 
you  ought  to  confide  it  to  me,  and  let  me  at  least  sym- 
pathize with,  if  I  cannot  alleviate,  your  sorrow." 

Mrs.  Alexander  grew  very  thoughtful  at  these  words. 
For  a  moment  she  stood  irresolute,  then  a  look  of  re- 
solve overspread  her  face,  and  she  said: 

"Sit  down,  my  children,  and  listen  to  me.  I  believe 
the  time  has  come  when  I  should  open  my  heart  to  you, 
my  Virgie,  and  since  Rupert  is  now  one  of  us  it  will  be 
just  as  well  for  him  to  hear  the  story  that  I  have  to 
tell  you  at  the  same  time ;  it  will  save  a  repetition,  and 
I  am  not  strong  enough  to  review  the  past  many 
times.  Perhaps,  too,"  she  added,  turning  to  the  young 
man,  who,  in  obedience  to  her  conquest,  had  drawn  his 
betrothed  back  to  her  seat  upon  the  sofa,  "you  may 
be  able  to  give  me  some  advice  regarding  a  duty  which 
I  have  soon  to  perform." 

She  sat  down  near  the  lovers  as  she  ceased  speak- 
ing, but  looking  more  like  a  statue  of  wax  than  a  living 


THREADS  GATHEEEB  UP 


133 


teing,  for  it  seemed  almost  like  going  to  her  own 
execution  to  confess  the  wrongs  which  had  been  the 
death-blow  to  all  the  hopes  of  her  own  youth. 


134 


'a^HREADS  GATHERED  UP. 


< 


CHAPTER  XV. 

*'l  HAVE  MET  LADY  LINTON  BEFORE." 

"You  have  always  supposed,  Virgie,"  Mrs.  Alex- 
ander continued,  after  pausing  a  moment  to  summon 
all  her  fortitude  for  the  duty  which  lay  before  her, 
"that  your  father  was  dead." 

"And  is  he  not,  mamma?"  cried  the  startled  girl, 
growing  almost  as  pale  as  her  mother,  and  casting 
a  terrified  look  upon  her  lover. 

"No,  dear;  he  is  still  living  and  here  in  England." 

"Mamma !"  and  the  cry  of  dismay,  almost  of  agony, 
smote  heavily  on  the  fond  mother's  heart,  while  Ru- 
pert Hamilton  gazed  from  one  to  the  other,  a  look  of 
wonder  on  his  fine  face. 

"Be  quiet,  Virgie,"  returned  Mrs.  Alexander,  gently. 
"No  stigma  rests  upon  either  your  name  or  mine,  as  I 
perceive  you  apprehend.  Although  I  was  most  cruelly 
deserted  in  less  than  a  year  after  my  marriage,  and  at 
a  time  when  I  needed  tenderest  car  and  sympathy; 
although  I  was  scorned  and  repudiated  by  the  family 
of  the  man  whom  I  had  wedded;  although  I  was  left 
weak,  unprotected,  and  comparatively  destitute  in  a 
strange  city — yet  I  have  risen  above  it  all ;  I  have  been 
able  to  prove  that  I  was  a  lawful  wife;  that  my  child 
could  claim  an  honored  name,  and  it  is  for  that  pur- 
pose that  I  am  here  in  London  to-day.  But  let  me 
begin  at  the  beginning,  and  tell  you  all  about  it." 

She  went  back  to  the  commencement  of  her  acquaint- 
ance with  Sir  William,  although  she  did  not  call  him  by 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


name— she  was  not  quite  ready  to  reveal  that  yet — 
and  related  all  the  story  of  his  visit  to  that  settle- 
ment among  the  mountains  of  Nevada.  She  told  how 
he  had  won  her;  how  kind  he  had  been  to  her  invalid 
father,  and  how  they  had  been  married  v/hile  he  was 
so  ill;  how,  after  his  death,  her  husband  had  taken  her 
to  many  places  of  interest  in  order  to  win  her  mind 
from  her  grief,  and  had  made  himself  so  necessary  and 
was  so  devoted  to  her  that  she  had  grown  to  idolize 
him  and  to  believe  him  the  truest  and  noblest  man  on 
earth.  She  told  of  his  sudden  recall  to  England,  while 
she  was  obliged  to  remain  behind;  of  the  sudden  ces- 
sation of  letters ;  of  the  arrival  at  the  hotel,  where  she 
w^as  boarding,  of  two  English  ladies,  whom  she  did 
not  name,  who  were  the  means  finally  of  her  discover- 
ing her  husband's  faithlessness,  his  previous  engage- 
ment to  one  of  his  own  countrywomen,  and  his  subse- 
quent marriage  with  her,  in  defiance  of  those  bonds 
that  he  had  assumed  in  conection  with  her.  She  re- 
lated how  she  had  at  once  returned  to  the  West,  where 
she  had  collected  incontestable  proofs  of  her  marriage, 
notwithstanding  that  she  had  no  certificate ;  how  she 
had  been  enabled  to  turn  her  artistic  talents  to  ac- 
count and  provide  for  her  own  necessities.  She  spoke 
of  the  divorce  that  she  had  obtained,  and  her  reasons 
for  wishing  to  secure  it,  scorning  to  remain  bound  to 
a  man  who  had  deserted  her,  and  yet  desirous  of  sav- 
ing another  pure  woman  from  dishonor.  Then  she 
told  something  of  her  father's  history  and  fortunes, 
of  her  uncle's  return,  his  repentance  and  restitution, 
and  the  provision  w^hich  he  had  made  for  her  and 
w^hich  had  placed  her  forever  beyond  the  fear  of  want 
or  the  need  of  toil,  even  though  she  might  never  re- 
cover the  fortune  that  her  father  had  left  her,  or  sue- 


136  THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


ceed  in  establishing  Virgie^s  claim  to  her  inheritance. 

It  was  a  sad,  heart-breaking  story,  and  told  with 
thrilling  power  and  earnestness  by  the  long-tried 
woman,  who  almost  seemed  to  be  enduring  again  the 
sufferings  of  her  early  life ;  and  when  at  length  it  was 
concluded,  she  was  nearly  exhausted  by  the  effort  it 
had  cost  her. 

Virgie  had  long  since  crept  to  her  mother's  side,  and 
was  now  in  tears,  with  her  arms  twined  about  her  and 
her  head  resting  on  her  bosom ;  while  Rupert  sat  near 
with  averted  eyes  and  looking  grave  and  deeply  dis- 
tressed. 

"Oh,  mamma,  why  have  you  not  told  me  this  be- 
fore?" Virgie  at  length  asked,  trying  to  control  her 
sobs. 

"Because,  my  darling,  I  could  not  bear  to  sadden 
your  young  life." 

"But  I  could  have  sympathized  with  you,  and  then 
I  need  not  have  pained  you  by  asking  so  many  dis- 
tressing questions." 

"It  was  better  for  me  to  bear  my  burden  alone," 
her  mother  persisted ;  "of  course  I  know  it  would  have 
to  be  told  some  time,  but  I  have  put  it  off  as  long  as 
I  could.  Now,  however,  I  must  soon  confront  the  man 
who  has  so  wronged  us,  and  demand  justice  and  resti- 
tution for  you,  and  so  it  has  become  necessary  that 
you  should  know  all  this  sad  history." 

"But,  mamma,  if  he  was  married  to  that  other  wo- 
man there  may  be  other  children,  and — and  " 

Virgie  could  not  go  on,  but  broke  down  in  distress. 

"True;  there  are — at  least  I  know  of  one;  but  that 
fact  cannot  affect  your  claim  or  deter  me  from  demand- 
ing that  you  be  recognized  as  the  legitimate  heir;  for, 
of  course,  unless  he  made  his  second  marriage  legal. 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


137 


after  the  divorce  was  obtained,  you  alone  have  any 
lawful  claim  upon  him,"  returned  Mrs.  Alexander,  in 
a  resolute  tone,  and  with  a  look  that  denoted  an  in- 
flexible purpose. 

"But  that  will  be  dreadful,"  Virgie  said,  greatly 
troubled;  "just  think  of  the  shame  that  such  a  pro- 
ceeding would  bring  upon  those  who  are  innocent  of 
wrong;  they  are  not  to  blame  for  the  evil  that  my — 
that  their  father  has  done,  and  it  does  not  seem  right 
that  they  should  be  made  to  suffer,  or  be  deprived 
of  their  inheritance ;  think  of  their  poor  mother  and 
all  her  hopes  for  her  children." 

"Does  it  count  for  nothing,  Virgie,  that  my  hopes 
were  crushed ;  that  I  was  abandoned  when  you  were 
a  helpless  little  one;  that  I  was  left  to  depend  upon 
myself  and  to  provide  for  you?"  cried  her  mother, 
sternly;  though  there  was  a  note  of  keenest  agony  in 
her  tones.  "Does  it  count  for  nothing  that  the  happi- 
ness of  my  whole  life  has  been  wrecked ;  that  I  was 
repudiated,  scorned,  mocked;  that  you  have  never 
been  acknowledged  by  your  own  name,  never  allowed 
to  occupy  your  true  position  in  life?" 

"I  know  it  has  all  been  wrong,  cruel,  wacked,"  Vir- 
gie returned,  sadly  and  with  trembling  lips ;  "but  I 
have  been  very  happy,  with  you,  mamma ;  you  have 
never  allowed  me  to  realize  anything  of  this  trouble ; 
we  have  had  everything  we  needed,  and  your  fortune 
is  ample  without  striving  for  that  which  you  affirm 
should  be  mine ;  I  cannot  bear  to  think  that  anyone 
must  be  made  to  suffer  just  to  secure  a  little  more 
w^ealth,  or  a  higher  position  in  life,  for  me." 

"And  are  you  willing  to  sacrifice  all  your  rights  to 
those  who  have  supplanted  you — who  have  lived  all 


138  THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


their  lives  upon  your  heritage?"  demanded  Mrs.  Alex- 
ander, excitedly. 

''Mamma/'  Virgie  answered,  sitting  up  ana  meeting 
her  mother's  flashing  eye  with  a  proud  look,  ''leaving 
the  innocent  out  of  the  question  entirely,  I  scorn  to 
accept  anything  from  the  man  who  has  so  wronged 
you;  I  would  not  be  recognized  as  his  child;  I  would 
not  be  known  by  his  name,  were  he  allied  to  royalty 
itself." 

Mrs.  Alexander  leaned  forward  and  kissed  the  beau- 
tiful girl,  clasping  her  fondly  to  her. 

"Ah,  my  darling,  you  are  not  lacking  in  spirit,  in 
spite  of  your  forgiving  nature,"  she  said;  "but  justice 
demands  that  he  shall  make  you  restitution;  that  must 
be  part  of  his  punishment." 

Then  turning  to  Rupert  she  continued: 

"You  are  a  man,  just  and  true,  Mr.  Hamilton;  you 
have  heard  my  story  as  a  disinterested  witness,  and  are 
therefore  capable  of  judging  with  an  unprejudiced 
mind;  I  ask  you,  is  it  right  that  I  should  demand  for 
my  child  the  position  and  inheritance  that  belong  to 
her?" 

And  Rupert  Hamilton  replied,  gravely,  decidedly : 
"It  is  right ;  a  great  wrong  has  been  done  both  you 
and  Virgie,  and  it  is  but  just  that  it  should  be  atoned 
for  as  far  as  may  be — if  not  willingly,  then  by  com- 
pulsion." 

The  young  man  little  realized  that  he  was  passing 
sentence  upon  his  respected  and  well-beloved  guar- 
dian ;  but  he  had  been  greatly  shocked  by  the  story  to 
which  he  had  listened,  and  he  deemed  no  punishment 
too  severe  for  him  who  had  been  guilty  of  such 
wrong. 

yirgie  sighted  at  his  verdict.   She  never  could  bear 


THREADS  GATHEEED  UP 


139 


the  thought  of  giving  pain  to  others,  and  she  shrank 
almost  with  loathing  from  meeting  one  who  had  caused 
her  mother  so  much  unhappincss. 

''Mamma,  who  is  my  father?"  she  asked,  after  a 
thoughtful  pause. 

"My  dear,  I  do  not  wish  to  tell  you  just  yet,  for  you 
are  liable  to  meet  him  or  some  members  of  his  family 
in  society,  and  you  will  be  happier  not  to  know  it,  at 
least  until  my  plans  are  matured  and  I  have  decided 
when  and  how  to  act.  I  have  simply  related  this  story 
to  you  now  because  I  thought  that  Rupert  ought  to 
know  something  of  our  history,  and  to  prepare  you 
for  what  must  soon  occur." 

''Very  well ;  I  will  wait  your  time,"  the  young  girl 
returned;  but  a  little  shiver  of  dread  crept  over  her; 
she  felt  that  she  could  never  forgive  or  own  the  man 
who  had  so  ill-treated  her  beautiful  mother. 

"And  one  thing  more,"  continued  Mrs.  Alexander, 
turning  to  Rupert.  "I  should  prefer  that  your  en- 
gagement remain  unannounced  for  a  little  while,  until 
this  business  is  settled.  My  lawyer  hopes  to  be  able 
to  arrange  matters  in  the  course  of  two  or  three 
weeks." 

"It  shall  be  just  as  you  wish,"  the  young  man  re- 
sponded, adding,  with  a  fond  smile,  as  he  turned  to 
Virgie:  "So  long  as  I  am  assured  of  the  love  that  I 
crave  it  matters  little  to  me  whether  the  World  knows 
it  or  not  for  the  present.  I  would,  however,  like  to 
make  one  exception.  I  should  like  to  inform  my  guar- 
dian of  the  fact." 

"That  is  but  right,"  returned  Mrs.  Alexander;  and 
she  was  again  about  to  ask  the  name  of  his  guardian, 
but  a  ring  of  their  bell  just  then  warned  them  that 
Miss  Huntington  had  arrived,  and  as  she  entered 


140 


THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


Rupert  took  his  leave,  wondering  to  himself  who  this 
man  was,  who  evidently  stood  so  high  in  London  so- 
ciety, and  who  had  so  ruthlessly  ruined  the  life  of  a 
beautiful  and  trusting  woman  and  discarded  his  own 
child. 

A  few  evenings  after  this  Virgie,  accompanied  by 
her  mother  for  the  first  time,  attended  the  reception 
and  ball  given  by  Lord  and  Lady  Dunforth. 

Lady  Dunforth  had  herself  been  a  beautiful  Ameri- 
can girl — Brownie  Douglas  by  name — ^and  she  was 
always  eager  to  entertain  her  countrywomen  when 
they  visited  London. 

She  had  met  Virgie  at  the  Huntingtons,  and  had  at 
once  been  attracted  toward  her,  and  had  taken  pains  to 
secure  her  presence  on  her  next  evening  at  home,  ar- 
ranging for  extra  attractions  for  her  sake. 

Mrs.  Alexander  was  feeling  unusually  well  on  this 
night,  and  had  taken  a  great  deal  of  pains  with  her 
own  and  her  daughter's  toilet. 

Virgie's  costume  was  exquisite,  consisting  of  pale- 
blue  satin,  with  an  overdress  of  misty  lace,  wrought 
with  tiny  crystals,  and  draped  with  clusters  of  blush- 
roses,  while  she  wore  strings  of  rare  pearls  on  her 
neck  and  arms  and  in  her  hair. 

Mrs.  Alexander  wore  simple  black,  but  of  richest 
material  and  finest  texture,  while  her  laces  were  excep- 
tionally rare  and  her  diamonds  of  the  purest  water. 

She  was  a  strikingly  beautiful  woman.  Her  form 
was  finely  developed,  and  yet  it  had  lost  nothing  of 
the  graceful  outline  of  her  maidenhood.  Her  face  pos- 
sessed a  peculiar  delicacy  of  beauty,  and  her  complex- 
ion was  as  faultless  as  of  old.  She  had  gained  much 
in  ease  and  self-possession ;  her  bearing  was  regal,  her 
manner  charming. 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


141 


Lady  Dunforth  was  even  more  delighted  with  her 
than  she  had  been  with  Virgie,  and  took  especial  pains 
to  present  her  to  her  most  honored  guests. 

It  happened  that  Lady  Linton  and  Lillian  were  also 
present  that  evening. 

Both  were  accomplished  society  w^omen,  and  were 
much  sought  after,  because  of  their  tact  and  bril- 
liancy, for  there  was  never  any  lack  of  life,  there  was 
never  any  stiffness  or  awkwardness  where  they  were. 
Lady  Linton  could  entertain  charmingly,  and  Lillian 
was  always  the  center  of  a  brilliant  circle. 

But  for  once  Lady  Linton's  accomplishment  in  this 
direction  failed  her. 

As  Lady  Dunforth  was  presenting  Mrs.  Alexander 
to  some  of  her  guests,  she  suddenly  came  face  to  face 
with  Sir  William  Heath's  sister. 

"Ah!  Lady  Linton,"  said  her  hostess,  in  her  genial 
way,  "I  have  a  friend  here  to  whom  I  would  like  to 
introduce  you;  Mrs.  Alexander — Lady  Linton." 

Her  ladyship  gave  one  glance  into  the  beautiful  face 
before  her,  and  recognized  it. 

She  knew  her  instantly  for  the  woman  who  had 
saved  her  life  at  the  time  of  that  frightful  railroad  dis- 
aster eight  years  previously;  who  had  nursed  her  so 
faithfully  during  the  illness  that  followed,  and  who 
had  afterward  told  her,  "I  am  the  woman  whom  your 
brother  loved — whom  he  wooed  and  won." 

A  deadly  pallor  overspread  her  countenance,  while 
her  customary  elegant  self-possession  was  utterly 
routed.  She  was  actually  stricken  dumb — her  lips  re- 
fused to  pronounce  the  name  she  had  heard,  in  ac- 
knowledgment of  the  introduction ;  she  could  only 
stand  still  with  her  eyes  fastened  in  a  blank,  startled 


142 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP. 


stare  upon  that  graceful  figure,  while  her  heart  sanic 
a  dead  weight  in  her  bosom. 

Instinctively  Lady  Linton  knew  why  Mrs.  Alex- 
ander was  there  in  London.  She  had  come  to  fulfill  the 
threat  that  she  had  uttered  so  long  ago,  and  a  terrible 
despair  settled  down  upon  the  finished  woman  of  the 
world,  rendering  her  speechless,  constrained,  embar- 
rassed. 

Mrs.  Alexander,  however,  was  entirely  at  her  ease. 
She  had  expected  to  meet  this  woman  in  society  at 
some  time  or  other,  and  was  prepared  for  the  en- 
counter. 

She  bowed  with  exceeding  grace,  but  with  a  sus- 
picion of  ironical  politeness,  while  she  remarked  in 
cool,  placid  tones : 

"I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Lady  Linton  be- 
fore." 

The  sound  of  her  voice  broke  the  spell  that  held 
her  ladyship  enthralled;  she  managed  to  bow  and  to 
murmur  some  inarticulate  words  in  return,  then  Lady 
Dunforth  passed  on  with  her  guest,  wondering  if  Lady 
Linton  was  ill,  that  she  should  appear  so  unlike  her- 
self. 


THREADS  GATHEEED  UE 


148 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

MORE  INTRODUCTIONS. 

Meanwhile  another  spiritual  episode  was  transpiring" 
in  a  different  portion  of  Lady  Dunforth's  drawing- 
room. 

Lillian  Linton,  brilliantly  beautiful  in  pale  pink  silk, 
with  elegant  ornaments  of  opals,  was  entertaining  a 
group  of  young  people,  while  merry  jest  and  sparkling 
repartee  ran  from  lip  to  lip,  when,  chancing  to  glance 
toward  the  door,  she  saw  Rupert  Hamilton  coming  for- 
ward with  a  girl  of  bewildering  loveliness  leaning  on 
his  arm. 

Her  heart  gave  a  great  startled  bound  as  she  looked, 
for  something  in  the  glance,  at  once  proud  and  fond, 
which  the  young  man  bent  upon  his  fair  companion — 
something  in  the  happy,  trustful  eyes  which  Virgie 
raised  to  meet  her  lover's,  told  her  that  her  own 
dream  of  love  in  connection  with  her  uncle's  ward 
could  never  be  realized. 

Rupert  had  appeared  very  different  to  her  since  his 
return  from  America.  While  he  always  treated  her 
with  every  mark  of  politeness  and  friendliness,  there 
was  at  the  same  time  an  unusual  reserve — a  constraint 
in  his  manner  which  seemed  like  a  brazen  wall  between 
them. 

At  first  she  had  told  herself  that  it  was  because  he 
had  been  absent  so  long;  that  when  he  was  once 
more  thoroughly  settled  at  home  matters  would  resume 


144 


THEE ADS  GATHERED  UP 


their  usual  course,  and  she  would  be  able  to  win  him 
by  the  witchery  of  her  charms. 

But  he  had  been  restless  and  absent-minded;  he  was 
anxious  to  get  back  to  London,  and  could  hardly  con- 
trol his  impatience  until  the  family  completed  their 
arrangements  to  go  for  a  while  to  their  town  house. 

Now  she  could  understand  it  all.  She  was  quick 
and  keen  enough  to  comprehend  why  his  handsome 
face  was  all  aglow;  why  his  eyes  beamed  with  that 
tender,  unaccustomed  light  that  called  the  soft  color  to 
the  young  girl's  cheeks  and  wreathed  her  rid  lips  with 
happy  smiles — he  loved  and  was  beloved. 

Her  proud,  passionate  heart  instantly  arose  in  re- 
bellion against  the  cruel  fate  which  decreed  that  the 
sweetest  hopes  of  her  life  must  be  blighted;  that  the 
love  of  which  she  had  dreamed  all  her  life,  and  which 
had  grown  into  her  soul  so  strong  and  deep,  must  be 
denied  her,  just  as  she  had  begun  to  feel  so  sure  of 
winning  it. 

That  the  girl  was  peerlessly  beautiful,  and  of  a  more 
delicate  and  refined  type  than  herself,  she  realized 
with  a  pang  of  jealousy,  and  she  was  conscious,  too, 
that  Rupert  was  bringing  her  straight  toward  her, 
doubtless  with  the  intention  of  introducing  her. 

Unlike  her  mother,  she  had  a  moment  in  which  to 
compose  and  brace  herself  before  meeting  her  rival; 
and,  calling  all  her  pride  to  her  aid,  she  looked  the 
picture  of  brilliant,  happy  maidenhood  when  Rupert 
reached  her  side. 

"Lillian,"  he  said,  "I  wish  to  introduce  you  to  a 
friend;  Miss  Alexander — Miss  Linton." 

Lillian  put  forth  her  daintily  gloved  hand  without 
a  tremor,  and,  with  a  dazzling  smile,  expressed  her 
pleasure  at  making  her  acquaintance. 


THEEADS  GATHEKED  UP. 


145 


"Miss  Alexander  is  an  American,"  Rupert  explained, 
and  Lillian's  heart  sank;  a  sudden  faintness  seemed 
to  come  over  her  at  his  words. 

Her  brother  Percy's  prophecy  had  been  verified;  he 
had  fallen  in  love  with  this  girl  while  on  his  tour  in 
the  United  States. 

But  she  would  rather  have  died  than  betrayed  any- 
thing of  her  dismay  before  the  girl,  and  looking 
straight  into  Virgie's  clear  eyes,  she  said,  brightly: 

''Ah !  then  I  suppose  you  have  recently  come  abroad, 
as  I  have  not  met  you  before." 

"Yes,  we  were  passengers  on  the  same  steamer  with 
Mr.  Hamilton,"  Virgie  answered,  and  we  owe  him  a 
great  deal,  for  he  was  very  kind  to  us — mamma  and 
me." 

"And  how  do  you  like  England  and  English  peo- 
ple?" 

"Very  much,"  Virgie  replied,  smiling,  while  her 
eyes  turned  instinctively  to  Rupert,  as  if  she  judged 
the  whole  nation  by  her  estimate  of  him. 

Lillian  shut  her  white  teeth  together  viciously  as  she 
saw  the  look  and  Rupert's  answering  smile,  and  she 
wondered  what  her  mother  would  say  when  she 
learned  that  her  uncle's  ward  had  bestowed  his  heart 
upon  a  hated  American. 

"Have  you  ever  been  in  the  United  States,  Miss 
Linton?"  Virgie  asked,  wholly  unconscious  of  the  dis- 
turbance which  her  presence  was  creating. 

"Yes,  I  traveled  considerably  there  one  summer  sev- 
eral years  ago." 

"And  were  you  pleased  with  my  country?" 

"Well,  of  course  America  is  very  different  from 
England,  and  I  like  my  own  land  best,  although  Amer- 
ica has  some  grand  scenery,"  Lillian  responded.  "But 


14G  THEEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


mamma  came  near  losing  her  life  there  in  a  terrible 
railway  accident,  and  I  was  only  too  glad  to  get  safely 
home  again." 

''Oh !"  said  Virgie,  with  a  quick  indrawn  breath,  "I 
remember;  we  were  on  that  very  train.  Is  that  Lady 
Linton  your  mother?" 

"Yes ;  how  strange  that  you  should  have  been  in 
that  accident,  too?"  returned  Lillian,  greatly  surprised. 
"Were  you  injured?" 

''No ;  mamma  and  I  both  escaped  unhurt,  though  my 
maid  had  one  arm  badly  broken.  I  can  just  remember 
Lady  Linton;  mamma  took  me  to  see  her  just  before 
we  left  the  place ;  I  was  sure  I  had  heard  the  name  be- 
fore, when  Mr.  Hamilton  mentioned  her  to  me  one 
day  last  week,  but  I  could  not  place  it." 

"I  wonder  "  began  Lillian,  excitedly,  and  then 

she  suddenly  checked  herself. 

She  was  just  upon  the  point  of  saying,  "I  wonder  if 
your  mother  was  the  lady  who  was  so  kind  to  mamma 
while  she  was  so  ill." 

Lady  Linton  had  been  obliged  to  confirm  her  physi- 
cian's statements  to  her  son  when  he  arrived,  that  a 
brave  woman  had  saved  her  life  at  the  time  of  the 
accident,  and  then  carefully  and  faithfully  nursed  her 
through  a  critical  crisis  afterward;  but  she  pretended 
not  to  know  her  name  and  never  mentioned  her  again, 
though  Percy  and  his  sister  often  spoke  of  the  circum- 
stance with  considerable  curiosity  and  interest. 

Virgie  raised  questioning  eyes,  as  Lillian  cut  herself 
short,  and  she  felt  compelled  to  complete  her  sen- 
tence in  some  way,  so  she  said: 

"I  wonder  there  were  not  more  lives  lost  at  that 
time;  it  must  have  been  a  shocking  accident.  But 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


147 


have  you  seen  Lady  Dunforth's  Japanese  curiosities. 
Miss  Alexander?" 

"No,  I  have  not,"  V'irgie  answered,  thinking  her  new 
acquaintance  had  changed  the  subject  rather  abruptly. 

''Then  let  me  take  you  to  examine  them,  Vir — 
Miss  Alexander,"  Rupert  interposed,  eagerly,  glad  of 
an  excuse  to  get  her  again  to  himself,  and  Virgie, 
bowing  a  graceful  adieu  to  Lillian,  took  his  arm  and 
allowed  him  to  lead  her  from  the  room. 

Lillian  watched  them  with  an  angry,  aching  heart, 
but  she  was  obliged  to  conceal  her  feelings,  for  she 
knew  that  others  were  observing  her,  and  not  for  the 
world  v\^ould  she  have  her  jealous  fears  suspected  ;  so 
it  was  not  long  before  she  was  again  the  life  and  center 
of  an  admiring  circle. 

Rupert  led  Virgie  to  a  small  room  opposite  the 
drawing-room,  which  had  been  fitted  up  in  Japanese 
style,  and  where  many  curiosities  and  choice  bric-a- 
brac  from  that  country  had  been  collected  and  taste- 
fully arranged. 

It  was  a  lovely  room,  and  Virgie  v/as  delighted  with 
its  unique  treasures. 

The  lovers  spent  some  tim.e  examining  the  dift'erent 
objects  and  in  the  enjoyment  of  each  other's  society, 
and  they  had  nearly  made  the  round  of  the  room 
when  someone  put  aside  the  curtains  of  the  door- 
ivay  and  entered. 

Rupert  glanced  up,  and  then  started  forward,  his 
face  lighting  with  a  smile  of  pleasure. 

"Uncle  Will,"  he  cried,  *T  did  not  know  that  you 
were  coming  here  to-night.    When  did  you  arrive?" 

''Only  a  few  moments  ago,"  returned  Sir  William 
Heath,  regarding  his  ward  affectionately.    *T  did  not 


us 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


expect  that  I  should  be  able  to  accept  Lady  Dunforth^s 
invitation;  in  fact,  I  told  Miriam  I  could  not,  but  I 
managed  to  get  through  my  business  somewhat  earlier 
than  usual,  and  so  concluded  to  drop  in  here  for  a 
little  relaxation." 

am  glad  you  did;  you  are  working  too  hard, 
Uncle  Will,  and  need  more  recreation.  But  come,  I 
have  a  friend  here  whom  I  want  you  to  know,"  Rupert 
concluded,  linking  his  arm  within  his  guardian's  and 
leading  him  toward  Virgie,  who  was  examining  an 
elaborate  piece  of  embroidery  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  room. 

"Ah !  a  young  lady !"  remarked  Sir  William,  archly, 
as  his  glance  fell  upon  the  pretty  figure;  her  face  he 
could  not  see,  for  it  was  turned  from  him. 

Rupert  colored  slightly  at  his  tone,  but  he  said  noth- 
ing until  he  reached  the  side  of  his  betrothed,  then  he 
remarked : 

"Miss  Alexander,  I  want  to  introduce  you  to  the  best 
friend  I  have  in  the  world,  my  guardian,  Sir  William 
Heath." 

Virgie  turned,  a  smile  of  pleasure  on  her  lips,  for  she 
had  longed  to  meet  Rupert's  guardian,  and  something 
in  the  fair  face  which  she  lifted  to  him,  in  that  deli- 
cate profile,  in  those  refined  features,  in  the  glancing 
of  her  eye,  and  in  the  very  movement  she  made,  as 
she  stepped  forward  to  greet  him,  suddenly  smote  the 
baronet  with  the  strangest  sensation  that  he  ever  ex- 
perienced, yet  he  never  dreamed  that  he  was  looking 
into  the  face  of  his  own  daughter ! 

It  almost  seemed  to  him  as  if  he  had  known  her 
before  in  some  previous  state  of  existence — as  if  some- 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


149 


where  in  the  dim  and  misty  past  their  souls  had  met 
and  held  sweet  and  genial  converse. 

For  a  moment  he  hardly  knew  whether  he  was  in  the 
body  or  out  ;  a  mist  obscured  his  sight,  a  mighty  ring- 
ing was  in  his  ears,  dulling  every  other  sound,  while 
the  very  earth  seemed  quaking  beneath  his  feet. 

''Uncle  Will,  you  are  ill !"  was  the  startled  remark 
that  recalled  him  to  himself,  and  made  him  suddenly 
realize  that  he  was  conducting  himself  very  strangely. 

"No,  my  boy,  it  is  only  a  sudden  dizziness ;  it  will 
pass  in  a  moment;  it  is  gone  even  now,  and  I  beg^ 
pardon  for  alarming  you  and  your  friend,"  the  baronet 
replied,  as  his  vision  began  to  clear  and  he  met  the 
beautiful  dark  eyes  of  the  young  girl  fixed  upon  him 
with  a  look  of  deep  concern. 

He  put  out  a  hand  to  steady  himself,  even  as  he 
spoke,  and  she  took  a  step  forward,  drawn  toward 
him  by  a  power  of  attraction  she  could  not  under- 
stand. 

'Tray  sit  down,  Sir  William ;  have  this  rocker,"  she 
said,  as  she  drew  forw^ard  a  light  but  roomy  willow 
chair  for  him. 

'Thanks,"  he  returned;  "let  us  all  sit;  we  can  chat 
a  few  moments  more  comfortably  so,"  and  he  gladly 
sank  into  the  rocker,  still  feeling  as  if  the  floor  was 
slipping  from  under  him.  v 

Rupert  drew  another  chair  for  Vergie,  and  then  w^ent 
to  get  a  glass  of  water  for  his  guardian,  for  his  pallor 
alarmed  him  greatly. 

But  he  was  soon  entirely  himself  again,  making  light 
of  his  sudden  attack,  and  they  sat  and  talked  some 
time  about  the  curiosities  around  them. 

But  the  baronet  watched  every  movement  of  the  fair 


150  THREADS  GATHERED  UP. 


young  stranger  with  an  eager,  wistful  eye.  Her  grace 
charmed  him  more  and  more;  even  the  tones  of  her 
voice  thrilled  him  with  a  painfully  sweet  sensation, 
and  whenever  she  addressed  him  the  tears  would 
almost  start  into  his  eyes. 

"Are  you  a  stranger  in  London?"  he  asked,  after  a 
little  pause  in  their  conversation. 

"Yes,  sir;  but  I  have  not  been  allowed  to  remember 
the  fact  since  coming  here — everyone  is  so  kind,"  she 
said,  smiling. 

"Where  is  your  home?"  he  inquired. 

"In  New  York  city,  on  the  other  side  of  the  At- 
lantic." 

"Indeed!  Then  you  have  come  hither  recently?" 

"It  is  scarcely  three  weeks  since  my  arrival  in  Lon- 
don," Virgie  returned. 

Sir  William  turned  a  questioning  look  upon  Rupert. 

"I  met  Miss  Alexander  during  my  trip,  Uncle  Will," 
he  said,  quietly,  but  coloring  beneath  his  glance. 

"Alexander!"  repeated  the  baronet,  with  a  sudden 
start. 

"I  did  not  quite  catch  the  name  before.  Is  New 
York  your  parents'  native  place?" 

"No,  sir.  Mamma's  early  home  was  in  the  West, 
and  my  father — oh!  what  have  I  done?" 

In  her  nervousness,  caused  by  speaking  of  her  father, 
Virgie  had  swept  something  from  the  table,  by  which 
she  was  sitting,  with  a  motion  of  her  arm,  and  it  had 
fallen  with  a  crash  to  the  floor. 

"No  harm,"  Rupert  returned,  as  he  stooped  to  pick 
it  up,  "it  is  only  a  metallic  paper  knife  and  could  not 
break.  It  is,  however,  a  curiously  carved  affair;  had 
you  noticed  it?"  and  he  passed  it  to  her  to  examine, 


THEE  ADS  GATHEKED  UP. 


151 


for  he  observed  that  she  was  disturbed  and  excited  by 
the  mention  of  her  father. 

Virgie  took  it,  glad  of  an  excuse  for  changing  the 
subject,  and  then  they  all  fell  to  discussing  the  skill 
and  ingenuity  of  the  Japanese. 

While  they  sat  thus,  a  face  suddenly  looked  in  upon 
them  from  the  hall. 

It  was  the  face  of  Lady  Linton. 

She  had  heard  voices  there,  while  passing,  and 
stepped  to  the  door-way,  impelled  by  an  unusual 
curiosity. 

She  took  in  the  situation  instantly. 

Her  brother  had  told  her  that  he  could  not  attend 
Lady  Dunforth's  reception  that  evening,  and,  ever 
since  her  encounter  with  Mrs.  Alexander,  she  had  been 
congratulating  herself  that  he  had  been  detained,  while 
now  she  had  found  him  here,  sitting  face  to  face  with 
his  own  daughter,  and  perhaps  upon  the  very  verge 
of  discovering  her  relationship  to  him. 

She  could  have  shrieked  aloud  with  terror  and 
anger. 

Must  all  her  skillfully  wrought  plans  come  to 
naught? 

Had  she  sacrificed  truth  and  honor  for  years,  to  fail 
now — to  have  the  woman  whom  she  had  hated  all  her 
life  triumph  over  her  at  last? 

No !  She  would  fight  it  out  to  the  bitter  end;  if  there 
was  any  power  on  earth  that  could  keep  them  apart 
they  should  never  meet,  and  she  must  begin  now — 
this  instant,  by  breaking  up  this  interesting  group. 

''William !"  she  cried,  in  a  strangely  altered  voice,. 
you  here  I" 

Sir  W^illiam  started  up  at  the  words,  turned  and  saw 


152  THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


his  sister  standing  upon  the  threshold  with  a  face  of 
ghastly  whiteness. 

''Yes.  What  is  the  matter,  Miriam?"  and  he  sprang^ 
forward  and  caught  her  in  his  arms,  just  as  she  was 
falling  to  the  floor  in  a  well-feigned  swoon. 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP. 


lo3 


CHAPTER  XVIL 

SOME  STARTLING  DISCOVERIES. 

Of  course  the  attention  of  all  centered  at  once  upon 
Lady  Linton,  and  Sir  William's  interest  in  his  beauti- 
ful but  unknown  daughter  was,  for  the  time,  merged 
in  his  anxiety  for  his  sister. 

As  it  happened,  there  was  no  one  else  in  the  room 
just  then,  and  Rupert  and  his  guardian  laid  the 
apparently  unconscious  woman  upon  a  lounge  that  was 
standing  near,  and  immediately  exerted  themselves  for 
her  recovery. 

Virgie,  too,  was  very  helpful,  dipping  her  own 
dainty  handkerchief  into  some  water  that  Rupert 
brought,  and  bathing  Lady  Linton's  face  with  it,  while 
she  gave  directions  to  Sir  William  about  chahng  her 
hands  to  assist  in  restoring  circulation. 

When  the  woman  began  to  shov,'  signs  of  recovery 
and  opened  her  eyes,  she  found  herself  looking  directly 
into  the  face  of  the  lovely  girl  whose  presence  there 
had  caused  her  so  much  concern. 

"Where  is  my  brother?"  she  demanded,  jerking  her 
head  away  from  the  gentle  hand  that  was  ministering 
so  tenderly  to  her. 

"I  am  here,  Miriam,"  said  Sir  William,  bending  over 
her.    "What  shall  I  do  for  you?" 

''Take  me  home,"  she  replied,  with  a  shiver,  as  she 
glanced  darkly  at  Virgie,  who  had  drawn  back  and 
was  standing  beside  Rupert. 


154 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


''I  will,  as  soon  as  you  are  able,"  her  brother  re- 
plied. 

*'I  am  able  now,"  and  she  sat  up  with  surprising 
energy  for  one  who  but  a  few  moments  before  had 
appeared  so  seriously  ill. 

*'Very  well;  I  will  attend  you  immediately,"  Sir 
William  responded;  "but,"  he  added,  as  he  regarded 
her  anxiously,  "what  could  have  caused  this  sudden 
attack?  I  never  knew  you  to  faint  before." 

A  guilty  stain  shot  for  a  moment  into  Lady  Linton's 
cheeks. 

"I  imagine  the  rooms  are  overheated,  and  I  have  not 
l^een  quite  myself  this  evening,"  she  said,  which  was 
true  enough,  for  there  had  been  a  deadly  sinking  at  her 
heart  ever  since  her  encounter  with  her  brother's  for- 
mer wife. 

She  glanced  uneasily  toward  the  door  as  she  spoke, 
for  she  was  in  mortal  terror  lest  she  should  chance  to 
make  her  appearance  there  in  search  of  her  daughter, 
and  she  felt  that  she  would  rather  drop  dead,  there 
at  her  brother's  feet,  than  to  have  those  two,  so  long 
parted  by  her  plotting,  meet  and  become  reconciled. 

Her  purpose  now  was  to  get  him  out  of  that  house 
and  away  from  London  as  soon  as  possible,  and  she 
resolved  to  stop  at  nothing  to  accomplish  her  objecL 
It  was  a  terrible  blow  to  her  to  find  that  woman  there. 
So  many  years  had  elapsed,  during  which  she  had 
kept  silence,  that  she  had  grown  to  feel  very  secure  in 
her  position  as  mistress  of  her  brother's  home,  and 
she  had  fully  expected  that  she  would  retain  it  as  long 
as  she  should  live,  and  had  come  to  regard  the  threats 
which  the  injured  wife  had  made  in  the  past  as  so 
many  idle  words. 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


155 


Life  of  late  had  looked  brighter  to  her  than  at  any 
previous  time  since  her  marriage.  Percy  had  recently 
become  engaged  to  a  beautiful  girl — one  in  every  Vvay 
worthy  of  him,  and  who,  when  she  became  his  wife, 
would  bring  with  her  a  noble  dower ;  indeed,  her 
father  was  so  much  pleased  with  his  prospective  son- 
in-law  that  he  had  himself  proposed  to  relieve  Linton 
Grange  of  all  incumbrances,  and  thus  all  the  burden 
entailed  by  his  father's  profligacy  would  be  lifted  from 
the  young  lord's  shoulders. 

Lillian's  debut  in  society  had  been  very  brilliant; 
she  was  greatly  admired  and  much  sought  after;  so 
the  mother's  cup  of  pride  and  joy  in  her  children 
seemed  to  be  full  to  the  brim. 

The  only  bitter  drop  in  it  was  Lillian's  unrequited 
affection  for  Rupert,  and  Lady  Linton  had  never  re- 
linquished the  hope  of  succeeding  in  accomplishing 
even  this  marriage  until  after  the  young  man's  re- 
turn from  America. 

He  had  seemed  very  different  since  then;  restless 
and  preoccupied,  but  betraying  at  the  same  time  an 
undercurrent  of  joy  which  told  of  some  sweet  hope 
cherished  in  his  heart,  the  fulfillment  of  which  he 
was  eagerly  awaiting. 

His  treatment  of  Lillian  was  courteous  and  respect- 
ful, but  not  calculated  to  inspire  anyone  with  the  belief 
that  he  regarded  her  with  feelings  of  more  than  ordi- 
nary friendship,  and  thus  Lady  Linton  had  begun  to 
fear  that  her  favorite  and  his  magnificent  fortune  were 
likely  to  slip  from  her  grasp  and  become  the  prey  of 
some  more  fortunate  beauty  and  belle. 

She  had  not,  however,  had  a  suspicion  of  zvho  was 
to  be  the  favored  maiden,  until  she  came  so  suddenly 


156 


THKEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


upon  that  group  in  the  Japanese  parlor,  when  she  had 
taken  in  at  a  glance  the  mortifying  and  exasperating 
truth,  and  immediately  she  was  wrought  almost  into 
a  frenzy  between  anger  and  fear,  and  ready  to  adopt 
the  most  daring  measures  to  protect  herself  from  ex- 
posure. 

But  to  return  to  the  Japanese  parlor. 

Lady  Linton  arose  as  she  replied  to  her  brother's 
questions,  and  signified  her  readiness  to  leave  imme- 
diately. 

''Wait  a  moment  here,"  he  said,  ''while  I  go  to  make 
our  excuses  to  Lady  Danforth  and  tell  Lillian  that  we 
are  going." 

"No — oh,  do  not  leave  me,  William !"  pleaded  Lady 
Linton,  growing  frightfully  pale  again  and  trembling 
visibly;  she  would  not  trust  him  one  moment  in  that 
drawing-room,  lest  he  should  meet  Virginia  Alexander. 
"I  am  afraid  I  shall  have  another  fainting  turn.  Let 
Rupert  see  her  ladyship.  Will  you?"  she  asked,  turn- 
ing to  him. 

"Certainly,"  he  answered,  readily. 

*'Thank  you.  And  now,  William,  if  you  will  please 
ring  for  a  servant  to  bring  my  wraps  here.  I  do  not 
feel  equal  to  the  effort  of  going  for  them." 

Sir  William  did  as  she  requested,  wondering  to  see 
her  so  unnerved.  Nothing  had  ever  seemed  to  unsettle 
her  like  this  before. 

"And,  Rupert,"  she  continued,  "won't  you  be  so 
good  as  to  look  after  Lillian  for  the  rest  of  the  even- 
ing, and  see  that  she  gets  home  safely?" 

"I  will  do  anything  you  wish,"  the  young  man  re- 
turned, although  he  was  not  very  well  pleased  with 
this  latter  commission,  for  he  had  anticipated  a  pleas- 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


157 


ant  drive  and  chat  with  Virgie,  as  it  had  been  his  inten- 
tion to  attend  her  home. 

"I  do  particularly  wish  this,"  Lady  Linton  said, 
with  decision.  ''It  would  not  be  proper  for  Lillian  to 
come  by  herself,  and  I  do  not  quite  like  to  alarm,  her 
or  tear  her  away  so  early  while  she  is  enjoying  herself 
so  much.  Ah !  here  come  my  wraps,"  she  concluded, 
with  a  sigh  of  relief,  as  a  servant  appeared  with  them. 

She  put  them  on  with  nervous  haste,  and  then  turn- 
ing to  her  brother,  said,  almost  peremptorily: 

"Come,  William,  I  am  ready." 

"In  one  moment,  Miriam." 

He  had  stepped  back  and  was  standing  before  Vir- 
gie, who,  keenly  sensitive  regarding  Lady  Linton's 
evident  aversion  to  her,  had  withdrawn  herself  from 
her  immediate  presence. 

He  held  out  his  hand  to  her,  saying,  as  he  smiled 
almost  tenderly  down  on  her  upturned  face : 

"It  has  been  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  meet  you.  I 
trust  we  shall  see  each  other  again  soon." 

"I  think  you  will.  Uncle  Will,"  Rupert  interposed,  in 
a  tone  that  made  his  guardian  turn  and  regard  him 
searchingly,  while  he  said  to  himself : 

"I  dd  believe  the  young  scamp  is  in  love  with  hen 
I  would  not  wish  a  more  charming  little  wife  for  him, 
but  I  am  afraid  it  will  be  rather  hard  on  Lillian." 

"Thank  you,  Sir  William,"  Virgie  returned,  and  there 
was  a  slight  tremor  in  her  voice,  for  the  presence  of 
this  man  thrilled  her  strangely.  "I  am  sure  the  pleas- 
ure has  been  mutual,  and  I  should  feel  very  sorry  if 
I  thought  I  should  not  meet  you  again." 

"William !"  interrupted  his  sister,  impatiently ;  and 
giving  the  soft  hand  he  was  holding  a  last,  lingering 


158 


THREADS  GATHEEED  UP 


pressure,  the  baronet  turned  away,  with  a  sigh,  and 
attended  his  sister  to  her  carriage,  while  Rupert  took 
Virgie  to  the  drawing-room,  where  he  sought  Lillian, 
to  inform  her  of  her  mother's  sudden  indisposition  and 
departure. 

An  hour  later  Mrs.  Alexander  and  Virgie  retired, 
for  the  former  was  not  strong  yet,  and  therefore  un- 
equal to  very  much  dissipation. 

Rupert  attended  them  to  their  carriage,  but  just  as 
they  were  about  to  enter  it  an  elegant  coupe  drew  up 
beside  it,  and  Mrs,  Alexander's  attention  was  instantly 
attracted  by  a  device  that  was  emblazoned  upon  one 
of  its  panels. 

She  stopped  with  her  foot  upon  the  step,  and  turned 
for  a  nearer  view. 

A  startled,  surprised  look  came  into  her  face. 

The  coat-of-arms  represented  a  patriarchal  cross, 
while  underneath  it  there  were  stamped  the  words, 
''Droit  et  Loyal/' 

'* Whose  carriage  is  that?"  Mrs.  Alexander  asked 
of  Rupert. 

He  glanced  in  the  direction  indicated. 

''That  is  Lady  Linton's,"  he  replied;  "she  has  sent 
it  back  for  Lillian." 

"Lady  Linton's!"  repeated  Mrs.  Alexander,  with  a 
start,  while  she  thought  it  a  little  strange  that  he 
should  speak  so  familiarly  of  her  daughter  and  be  so 
well  informed  of  the  lady's  movements. 

"Yes;  Sir  William  Heath,  her  brother,  presented 
both  carriage  and  horses  to  her  for  her  individual  use 
one  Christmas,"  Rupert  explained. 

"And  what  is  that  device  upon  the  panel  of  the 
carriage-door  ?" 


THEE ADS  GATHERED  UP 


159 


"It  is  the  Linton  coat-of-arms." 

''The  Linton  coat-of-arms  1  You  seem  to  know  the 
family  well,  Mr.  Hamilton." 

"And  why  should  I  not?"  Rupert  returned,  smiling-. 
''I  have  made  my  home  with  them  during  the  last  ten 
or  twelve  years.   William  Heath  is  my  guardian." 

''What?"  cried  his  listener,  sharply. 

"Have  I  not  told  you  before?"  Rupert  asked,  look- 
ing up  in  surprise  at  her  tone.  "You  must  pardon  me, 
Mrs.  Alexander,  for  being  so  negligent;  but  surely,  I 
thought  I  had  informed  you  of  the  fact." 

Mrs.  Alexander  clutched  at  the  carriage-door  for 
support,  and  for  a  moment  thought  she  must  fall  to  the 
ground;  two  such  startling  discoveries  as  she  had  just 
made  were  sufficient  to  make  her  heari  stand  still  and 
her  blood  run  cold,  and  she  scarcely  had  strength  to 
move. 

Rupert  Hamilton  Sir  William  Heath's  ward? 

It  was  a  strange  fate  that  had  decreed  that  her 
daughter  and  his  should  become  the  fiancee  of  the 
young  man  he  had  reared. 

She  was  aghast ;  her  brain  reeled  and  she  stumbled 
into  the  carriage  and  sank  weakly  upon  the  seat,  anx- 
ious to  be  gone,  to  be  alone,  and  think  it  all  out  by 
herself. 

Her  face  was  deathly  in  its  paleness,  and  Rupert, 
though  he  wondered  at  her  strange  behavior,  so  at 
variance  with  her  usual  courtesy,  feared  that  she  was 
displeased  with  him  for  his  negligence. 

"Am  I  forgiven?"  he  asked,  smilingly,  as  he  leaned 
in  to  tuck  the  robes  about  them. 

His  question  brought  the  stricken  woman  somewhat 
to  herself,  and  she  replied: 


160  THEEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


"There  is  nothing  to  forgive,  Mr.  Hamilton.  Of 
course,  it  was  an  oversight,  your  not  mentioning  that 
Sir  WilHam  Heath  was  your  guardian.  Did  Virgie 
know?" 

**Yes,  mamma.  Rupert  introduced  me  to  him  to- 
night as  his  best  friend;  but  he  had  told  me  before,  and 
I  thought  you  knew,"  said  the  young  girl,  marveling  at 
her  mother's  strange  emotion. 

''Introduced  him  to  you  to-night!  Was  he  here?'* 
cried  the  woman,  with  a  gasp  and  a  sense  of  suffoca- 
tion. 

"Yes.  But,  mamma,  how  strangely  you  act!  Are 
you  ill?"  Virgie  inquired,  noticing,  with  increasing 
alarm,  her  mother's  pale  face  and  uncontrollable  agita- 
tion. 

"No — yes.  Let  me  get  home  as  soon  as  we  can — I 
believe  I  am  not  well,"  and  she  sank  weakly  back 
among  the  cushions,  almost  panting  for  breath. 

"Shall  I  come,  too?"  Will  you  need  me?"  Rupert 
asked,  anxiously. 

"No,  thank  you,"  Mrs.  Alexander  answered,  with 
a  great  effort.  "It  is  not  far — we  shall  soon  be  there — 
good-night !" 

The  young  man  would  gladly  have  gone,  but  her 
tone  was  decisive,  and  he  turned  back  into  the  man- 
sion, as  the  carriage  drove  away,  greatly  puzzled  by 
her  strange  manner,  and  at  the  way  she  had  spoken 
of  his  guardian. 

Mrs.  Alexander  scarcely  spoke  all  the  way  home, 
and  insisted  upon  going  directly  to  her  room  alone, 
although  Virgie  begged  to  be  allowed  to  do  something 
for  her — to  stay  with  her  during  the  night. 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


161 


''All  that  I  need  is  rest  and  quiet,"  she  said.  ''Good- 
night my  darling!" 

She  kissed  her  tenderly,  wondering,  with  a  terrible 
heart-pang,  how  she  could  ever  tell  her  that  her 
lover's  guardian  was  her  own  father — the  man  who 
had  so  cruelly  wronged  his  wife  and  child  more  than 
eighteen  years  ago. 

Once  in  the  room,  without  even  stopping  to  re- 
move her  wraps,  she  went  to  her  writing-desk,  drew 
forth  a  package  from  a  drawer  in  it,  and  took  it  to 
the  light  for  examination. 

It  was  the  mysterious  package  which  her  uncle^ 
I\Iark  Alexander,  had  confided  to  her  on  his  death- 
bed, charging  her  to  return  it  to  the  owner  should 
she  ever  discover  who  that  person  was. 

She  had  discovered  that  night  to  whom  it  belonged. 

She  held  the  seal  close  to  the  candle,  and  gazed 
upon  it  with  darkening  eyes  and  sternly  compressed 
lips.  It  was  stamped  with  a  shield  bearing  a  patri- 
archal cross,  and  under  it  was  the  motto,  Drcif  et 
Loyair 

"How  strange!"  she  murmured-  "It  belongs  to  his 
sister — to  that  woman  who  mocked  and  scorned  me; 
whom  I  saved  from  a  dreadful  death,  and  nursed 
through  a  critical  illness!  She  must  have  been  one  of 
those  women  whom  Uncle  Mark  heard  conversing  to- 
gether that  day  in  the  hotel  parlor  here  in  London. 
How  wonderful  that  anything  belonging  to  her  should 
have  fallen  into  my  hands !  How  wonderful  every- 
thing is — Virgie's  betrothal  to  Rupert — her  meetings 
with  him  to-night!  How  will  it  all  end?  To  think  that 
he  was  there,  in  the  same  house  with  me,  this  even- 
ing! I  am  really  curious  to  know  what  this  contains/* 


162 


THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


she  continued,  turning  the  package  over  and  over,  and 
regarding  it  with  troubled  eyes,  v^hile  her  thoughts 
were  busy  with  the  past. 

*'Well,"  she  concluded,  after  musing  for  several 
minutes,  "it  must  be  returned  to  its  owner,  I  suppose. 
I  promised,  and  I  must  fulfill  my  word.  Yes,"  lifting 
her  head  resolutely,  "she  shall  have  it  on  the  day  that 
my  darling  stands  within  her  ancestral  halls  the  ac- 
knowledged heiress  of  Heathdale,  not  before." 


THEEADS  GATHEKED  UP  163 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

A  SUDDEN  FLITTING. 

The  next  morning  Mrs.  Alexander's  lawyer,  Mr. 
Thurston,  made  a  call  upon  his  client,  and  had  an 
interview  with  her  of  m.ore  than  two  hours'  duration. 

After  his  departure,  she  sought  Virgie,  with  a  very 
grave  face,  and  explained  the  nature  of  his  business, 
which  caused  the  young  girl  to  open  wide  her  lovely 
eyes  and  exclaim,  with  astonishment : 

*'Why,  mamma,  it  is  the  strangest  romance  in  the 
world  !  I  never  heard  anything  like  it !" 

''Well,  dear,  get  yourself  ready  as  soon  as  possible, 
for  we  must  leave  town  this  afternoon,  as  there  is  no 
time  to  lose,"  her  mother  replied,  as  she  arose  to  go 
to  make  her  own  preparations  for  the  proposed  jour- 
ney. 

''But,  mamma,  what  shall  I  do  about  Rupert?"  Vir- 
gie asked,  looking  troubled. 

Mrs.  Alexander's  face  fell  at  the  mention  of  the 
young  man's  name. 

She  had  scarcely  slept  during  the  previous  night, 
for  many  things  troubled  her,  and,  among  others,  the 
thought  that  Virgie's  engagement  to  Rupert  Hamil- 
ton seemed  likely  to  complicate  matters  very  much 
when  she  should  be  ready  to  make  her  claim  upon  Sir 
William  Heath. 

"You  can  leave  a  note  telling  him  that  we  are 
obliged  to  leave  town  for  a  while,  and  we  can  explain 
further  to  him  when  we  ascertain  just  how  we  are  to 


164  THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


be  situated,"  her  mother  replied,  after  considering  a 
moment. 

So,  when  Rupert  called  that  evening,  he  found  only 
a  note  awaiting  him  instead  of  the  bright  face  he  had 
hoped  to  see,  while  it  told  him  that  his  betrothed  and 
her  mother  had  been  unexpectedly  called  away  from 
London  upon  important  business,  which  might  de- 
tain them  a  week,  perhaps  longer. 

"It  is  very  strange  that  she  does  not  mention  where 
they  are  going,"  he  said,  as  he  read  the  note  over  for 
the  second  time,  and  remarked  this  omission.  "Mrs. 
Alexander  acted  very  strangely  last  evening.  I  wonder 
if  this  sudden  departure  can  have  had  anything  to  do 
with  that?" 

He  retraced  his  steps,  feeling  unaccountably  de- 
pressed over  the  absence  of  Virgie,  and  he  resolved 
to  seek  an  interview  with  Sir  William  and  acquaint 
him  with  the  fact  of  his  engagement  that  very  even- 
ing. 

He  did  not,  however,  find  his  guardian  upon  his 
return ;  he  had  gone  out  upon  a  matter  of  business,  his 
valet  told  the  young  man,  and  would  not  be  back 
until  late ;  so  he  retired,  resolving  to  improve  the  first 
opportunity  on  the  morrow. 

The  next  morning,  after  breakfast,  he  said.  In  a 
quiet  aside : 

"Can  I  have  a  few  moments^  conversation  with  you. 
Uncle  Will?" 

"Certainly,  my  boy.  Come  into  the  library  in  about 
ten  minutes,  and  I  will  be  there." 

Lady  Linton,  always  on  the  alert  for  everything  of 
a  mysterious  nature,  and  doubly  keen  now  to  suspect 
mischief,  heard  this  request,  and  at  once  resolved  to 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


165 


become  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  the  interview. 

Sir  William's  chamber  was  just  back  of  the  library, 
although  there  was  no  door  commimicating  w^ith  it. 

The  same  furnace-pipe,  however,  conducted  heat  to 
the  two  rooms,  and,  by  stationing  herself  close  to  this, 
her  ladyship  knew  she  could  overhear  whatever  might 
pass  between  the  two  men.  She  therefore  slipped 
quietly  into  her  brother's  bed-room,  locked  the  door, 
and,  creeping  close  to  the  register,  laid  her  eager  ear 
against  it, 

Rupert  was  already  with  Sir  William,  for  the  house- 
keeper had  detained  Lady  Linton  for  a  few  moments 
with  questions  regarding  some  domestic  matter,  but 
she  was  in  season  to  hear  him  broach  the  subject 
so  near  his  heart. 

have  come  to  make  a  confession  to  you,  Uncle 
Will,"  he  said,  as  he  seated  himself  opposite  his  guar- 
dian. 

"A  confession!  Nothing  very  serious,  I  hope,"  said 
Sir  William,  glancing  keenly  into  the  flushed  face  of 
his  ward. 

"Yes,  I  think  it  is  of  rather  a  serious  nature,"  he 
returned,  smiling  slightly.  wash  to  tell  you  that  I 
have  become  deeply  attached  to  Miss  Alexander,  to 
whom  I  introduced  you  last  night,  and  to  ask  your 
sanction  to  our  engagement." 

"Aha!  has  it  gone  so  far  as  that?"  inquired  Sir 
William.  "I  began  to  surmise  last  evening  that  she 
was  taking  your  heart  captive,  but  did  not  imagine 
matters  had  reached  a  crisis  yet." 

"Don't  you  think  her  lovely,  Uncle  Will?"  Rupert 
asked,  eagerly. 

"Very  lovely;  but,  my  boy,  the  ocean  rolls  between 


166 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


England  and  America.  I  cannot  bear  the  thought  of 
a  separation  from  you,  Rupert." 

**Nor  I  from  you,  my  dear  guardian;  and,  I  assure 
you,  you  need  not  fear  it,  for  the  young  lady  does  not 
object  to  a  permanent  residence  in  England.  I  trust 
you  will  not  oppose  my  marriage  with  Miss  Alex- 
ander." 

''Rupert,"  said  Sir  William,  gravely,  *'my  only  wish 
is  for  your  happiness,  and  if  Miss  Alexander  is  the 
woman  of  your  choice — if  you  are  sure  that  she  alone 
can  make  you  happy — then  I  can  only  say  Heaven 
bless  you  and  grant  that  your  future  may  be  all  that 
you  desire." 

'Thank  you.  Uncle  Will,  I — I  hope  you  do  not  dis- 
approve of  my  choice  of  a  wife  ?"  Rupert  said,  regard- 
ing  his  guardian's  grave  face  anxiously. 

''No,  no,"  returned  the  baronet,  hastily.  "I  admired 
the  little  lady  very  much  during  the  few  moments  that 
I  spent  with  her  last  evening.  She  seems  a  lovely 
girl.  My  first  thought  was  that  she  might  take  you 
from  us." 

"No.  Although  she  was  born  in  America,  she  is 
herself  of  English  decent  on  her  father's  side,  and  she 
and  her  mother  are  now  in  this  country,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  claiming  some  property  inherited  from  him," 
Rupert  explained. 

"Ah!  then  she  has  no  father." 

"No;  he — she — lost  him  when  she  was  a  child." 

The  young  man  began  to  fear  he  was  trespassing 
somewhat  upon  Mrs.  Alexander's  confidence,  and  re- 
solved that  he  would  betray  no  more  at  present. 

"Are  you  sure  that  the  family  is  one  with  which 


THEE ADS  GATHERED  UP 


16T 


you  will  feel  proud  to  ally  yourself?"  Sir  William  in- 
quired. 

"I  know  but  very  little  concerning  their  family/' 
Rupert  admitted.  "I  doubt  if  they  have  any,  but 
everything  about  them  indicates  that  they  are  above 
reproach,  while  Mr.  Knight,  the  gentleman  whom  I 
met  in  America,  and  of  whom  you  have  often  heard 
me  speak,  introduced  them,  and  he  is  of  irreproachable 
character.  He  occupies  a  high  position  in  New  York, 
and  it  is  in  compliance  with  his  request  that  they  are 
presented  here,  and  chaperoned  by  the  Huntingtons." 

''The  Huntington's  are  all  right,  and  would  intro- 
duce no  one  regarding  whom  there  was  any  question," 
Sir  William  said,  in  a  satisfied  tone.  ''Is  Mrs.  Alex- 
ander as  much  of  a  beauty  as  her  daughter?"  he  con- 
cluded, smilingly. 

''Hardly  in  my  eyes,"  returned  the  young  man,  with 
heightened  color;  "and  yet  she  is  a  remarkably  hand- 
some woman.  I  hope  I  may  be  able  to  arrange  for 
you  to  make  their  acquaintance  very  soon;  but  until 
then  please  regard  what  I  have  told  you  as  strictly 
confidential." 

"Ah !  Then  you  do  not  intend  to  announce  your  en- 
gagement just  yet,"  remarked  Sir  William,  with  some 
surprise. 

"No,  sir.  At  Mrs.  Alexander's  request,  we  shall  de- 
lay it  for  the  present,  until  she  secures  the  property  of 
which  I  have  already  spoken." 

"How  much  of  an  heiress  is  your  pretty  fiancee  go- 
ing to  be,  Rupert?"  his  guardian  asked. 

"I  cannot  tell.  I  do  not  even  know  of  what  this 
property  consists,"  the  young  man  answered,  thought- 
fully. 


168  O^HEEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


"I  am  afraid  there  is  something  a  little  mysterious 
about  these  ladies.  Doesn't  it  strike  you  so?"  inquired 
Sir  William,  gravely,  yet  without  a  suspicion  of  the 
wonderful  truth. 

Rupert  knew  there  was,  but  he  was  not  going  to 
confess  it,  and  he  replied,  evasively : 

"1  do  not  imagine  there  is  anything  but  what  will 
soon  be  satisfactorily  explained  to  us  all." 

Lady  Linton,  hearing  all  this,  and  knowing  so  much 
more  than  either  Rupert  or  her  brother,  grew  deadly 
faint  as  she  listened  and  realized  how  near  she  stood 
to  the  verge  of  a  terrible  exposure. 

Just  then  there  came  a  brisk  tap  on  the  library 
door,  and  the  next  moment  Lillian  put  her  bright  face 
into  the  room,  and  looking  as  lovely  as  the  morning 
itself  in  her  white  flannel  wrapper,  fastened  at  the 
waist  with  cherry  ribbons,  and  with  her  hands  full 
of  jacqueminot  roses. 

Her  face  assumed  a  look  of  surprise  as  she  saw 
Rupert  there,  and  she  regarded  him  with  searching 
curiosity. 

'Tardon  me,  Uncle  Will,"  she  said,  flushing;  "I  did 
not  know  that  you  were  engaged  with  anyone ;  I  have' 
just  received  a  box  of  flowers,  and  came  to  arrange 
some  for  your  table.  May  I  come  in?  I  won't  be  long." 

"Yes,  indeed,  come  in ;  you  are  doubly  welcome 
coming  with  so  much  beauty  and  fragrance,"  said  her 
uncle,  smiling. 

Rupert  arose  as  she  entered,  and  asked  with  an  arch 
smile : 

"What  enamored  swain  has  been  guilty  of  the  ex- 
travagance of  lavishing  such  costly  flowers  upon  you, 
Lillian?" 


THKEADS  GATHERED  UP  1G9 


''Lord  Ernest  Rathburn  is  the  donor;  he  has  exquis- 
ite taste.  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  the  box  when 
it  came,"  the  girl  replied,  with  a  conscious  drooping 
of  her  brilliant  eyes. 

''Lord  Ernest  Rathburn!"  repeated  Rupert  in  a  pe- 
culiar tone,  w^hich  brought  the  angry  color  to  Lillian's 
cheek. 

Lord  Ernest  w^as  a  young  nobleman  with  a  large 
revenue,  but  possessing  far  less  brains  than  mustache, 
and  who  was  regarded  with  contempt  by  all  manly 
young  men,  on  account  of  his  effeminacy  and  ex- 
cesses. 

"I  wash,"  he  added,  "that  you  could  meet  a  friend 
of  mine,  Lillian ;  you  will,  I  hope,  before  very  long. 
Lord  Ernest  would  sink  into  insignificance  by  com- 
parison," 

"And  who  may  this  paragon  of  manly  excellence  be, 
Mr.  Hamilton,  if  I  may  inquire?"  Lillian  asked,  with  a 
toss  of  her  head. 

"Harry  Webster,  the  young  man  with  whom  I  trav- 
eled, last  winter,  in  America." 

"I  despise  Americans,"  retorted  Miss  Linton,  v/ith 
considerable  asperity. 

"That  is  rather  a  sweeping  assertion ;  isn't  it,  my 
dear?"  asked  Sir  William,  looking  a  trifle  amused. 

"It  is  the  truth,  Uncle  Will,  whatever  else  it  may 
be,"  she  retorted,  as  she  began  to  arrange  her  flowers 
in  a  vase  on  the  table.  "I  am  English  to  the  back- 
bone. I  am  thoroughly  imbued  with  a  love  for  my 
own  people,  and  I  shall  never  permit  myself  to  draw 
disloyal  comparisons." 

Rupert  laughed  outright  as,  in  his  mind,  he  placed 
the  stooping  figure  and  imbecile  face  of  the  half- 


170 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


witted  young  lord  beside  the  grandly  developed  form 
and  frank,  handsome  countenance  of  his  American 
friend. 

**If  you  could  place  the  two  men  side  by  side,  I 
warrant  you  would  be  compelled  to  draw  disloyal 
comparisons,  in  spite  of  your  very  praiseworthy  pa- 
triotism, my  fair  cousin,"  he  said,  a  roguish  twinkle 
in  his  eyes. 

Lillian  shot  an  angry  glance  at  those  last  words; 
nothing  annoyed  her  more  than  to  be  called  ^'sister** 
or  ''cousin"  by  Rupert. 

"I  thank  you  for  acknowledging  that  I  am  imbued 
with  patriotism.  I  wonder  what  has  become  of  yours," 
she  said,  sarcastically. 

"I  have  plenty  of  it,  only  I  do  not  allow  it  to  warp 
my  judgment;  I  can  appreciate  both  beauty  and  good- 
ness whenever  I  find  it,  at  home  or  abroad." 

''That  is  a  self-evident  fact,"  remarked  the  young 
girl,  dryly,  and  Rupert  colored  consciously. 

"I  give  you  credit  for  just  as  nice  discrimination," 
he  retorted.  "Wait  till  you  see  my  friend,  Webster, 
and  if  he  doesn't  take  the  palm  I  shall  'lose  my  guess,' 
as  the  Yankees  say." 

"That  is  American  slang;  they  are  all  insufferably 
coarse,"  Lillian  returned,  contemptuously. 

"Did  you  meet  the  pretty  little  American,  Miss 
Alexander,  at  Lady  Dunforth's  the  other  evening,  Lil- 
lian?" inquired  Sir  William. 

"Yes,  I  met  her,"  the  girl  admitted,  rather  ungra- 
ciously. 

"Well,  you  would  hardly  class  her  among  those 
whom  you  term  coarse,  would  you?  I  thought  her  an 
unusually  attractive  girl." 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


171 


*^No ;  I  admit  she  appeared  very  pretty  and  ladylikej 
and  yet  I  have  no  doubt  that  she  would  soon  betray 
her  nationality  if  one  was  to  see  much  of  her." 

''Neither  have  I ;  and  she  would  be  proud  to  own  it, 
also,  I'll  w^ager,"  Rupert  observed,  with  some  spirit. 

He  was  out  of  patience  with  Lillian's  unreason- 
able prejudices,  and  her  slighting  tone  in  speaking 
of  Virgie  made  him  indignant. 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  mocking  smile  on  her  red 
lips. 

"When  shall  we  have  the  pleasure  of  congratulating 
you  upon  your  American  conquest?"  she  asked, 
saucily. 

"I  shall  take  great  pleasure  in  informing  you  when 
the  proper  time  arrives,"  he  replied,  with  studied 
politeness,  and  with  a  seriousness  that  drove  all  color 
from  the  girl's  face  and  made  her  heart  sink  like  lead 
in  her  bosom. 

At  that  moment  the  butler  entered  the  room  with 
a  telegram,  which  he  presented  to  Sir  William,  and 
then  withdrew. 

The  baronet  tore  it  open  and  read: 

"Come  to  Middlewdch  at  once.  William  has  had 
a  dangerous  fall.  Margaret  Heath." 

Middlewich  was  the  country  seat  of  the  nobleman 
to  whom  the  baronet's  cousin,  William  Heath,  was 
private  secretary,  and  it  w^as  to  this  place  that  he  w^as 
now  so  peremptorily  summoned. 

Lady  Linton,  in  her  hiding  place,  heard  her  brother 
read  this  telegram  with  a  thrill  of  joy. 

She  was  glad  of  anything  that  would  take  him  out 


172 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


of  London  and  away  from  the  danger  of  meeting 
"that  woman,"  and  she  resolved  that  it  should  go 
hard  with  her  if  she  could  not  find  some  way  of  op- 
posing other  barriers  before  his  return.  It  was  a  des- 
perate case,  and  she  was  prepared  for  desperate  meas- 
ures. 

She  crept  out  of  her  brather's  chamber  with  a  pale, 
drawn  face,  saying  to  herself  that  Rupert  Hamilton 
should  never  fulfill  his  engagement  with  Virgie  Alex- 
ander, if  there  was  any  power  on  earth  to  prevent  it; 
she  could  never  bear  the  humiliation  of  it. 

She  packed  her  brother's  portmanteau  with  alacrity, 
and  promised  to  attend  faithfully  to  his  various  com- 
missions during  his  absence,  and  uttered  a  sigh  of 
relief  when  the  carriage  drove  from  the  door,  and  she 
knew  that  he  was  well  on  his  way  to  Middlewich. 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP. 


173 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

AN  UNEXPECTED  MEETING. 

Three  days  later  Lady  Linton  received  a  letter  from 
her  brother,  giving  the  particulars  of  his  cousin's  ac- 
cident. He  had  been  riding  from  Chester  to  ^liddle- 
\vich,  when  his  horse  became  frightened  at  some  ob- 
ject by  the  roadside,  and  ^Ir.  Heath,  not  being  suf- 
ficiently on  his  guard,  had  been  thrown,  suffering  the 
fracture  of  two  ribs,  a  broken  arm,  and,  it  was  feared, 
some  internal  injury  besides.  He  was  in  a  very  critical 
state  at  the  time  of  Sir  AVilliam's  writing,  and  the  lat- 
ter said  he  should  not  think  of  returning  to  London 
until  assured  that  his  kinsman  was  out  of  danger. 

"Thank  fortune!"  Lady  Linton  breathed,  most  fer- 
vently. ''Of  course,"  she  added,  a  guilty  flush  rising 
to  her  forehead  as  she  suddenly  realized  how  heartless 
her  expression  sounded,  ''"'of  course,  I  do  not  mean  that 
I  am  thankful  to  have  Cousin  A\'illiam  suffer  such  in- 
juries, but  I  am  immeasurably  relieved  to  have  my 
brother  called  av^-ay  just  at  this  time,  and  the  longer 
he  stays,  the  better  I  shall  be  pleased." 

She  heard  nothing  more  for  a  week,  w^hen  there 
came  another  letter  stating  that  Mr.  Heath  was 
slightly  improved,  but  still  unable  to  be  moved,  and 
quite  a  sufferer.  There  were  some  more  particulars, 
too,  regarding  the  accident. 

Lord  Norton,  an  aged  friend  of  the  Duke  of  Fal- 
mouth— the  nobleman  to  whom  Mr.  Heath  was  pri- 


174  THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


vate  secretary — was  very  ill,  and  he  had  sent  for  his 
grace  to  confide  to  him  a  historical  work  upon  which 
he  had  been  engaged  for  more  than  two  years.  It 
was  nearly  completed,  only  a  few  more  chapters  to  be 
copied,  and  Lord  Norton,  feeling  that  he  should  not 
live  to  see  it  published,  desired  his  friend  to  take  charge 
of  it,  finish  it,  and  secure  its  publication. 

The  duke  readily  consented  to  put  the  work 
through ;  but,  as  his  eyesight  would  not  permit  him  to 
do  very  much  in  the  way  of  either  reading  or  writ- 
ing, he  suggested  that  his  secretary,  Mr.  Heath,  who 
was  eminently  qualified,  should  get  it  ready  for  press, 
and  he  himself  would  attend  to  its  publication. 

Lord  Norton  was  pleased  with  this  proposition,  and 
Mr.  Heath  consented  to  take  hold  of  the  book  at  once, 
hoping  to  complete  the  copying  while  his  lordship's 
strength  endured  to  oversee  the  work  and  make  im- 
portant suggestions  for  his  benefit. 

Of  course,  this  necessitated  numerous  visits  to  the 
invalid,  and  it  was  while  returning  from  one  of  these 
that  Mr.  Heath's  horse  took  fright,  causing  the  acci- 
dent and  putting  a  stop  to  the  project  which  lay  so 
near  the  old  lord's  heart. 

Sir  William  wrote  that  the  disappointment  of  both 
the  Duke  of  Falmouth  and  Lord  Norton  was  so  great 
that  he  had  himself  offered  to  take  his  cousin's  place 
and  finish  the  copying  of  the  book,  while  he  remained 
at  Middlewich  in  attendance  upon  his  injured  relative 
and  his  family. 

Lady  Linton  was  jubilant  after  receiving  this  let- 
ter, for  it  was  evident  that  Sir  William  would  be  de- 
tained at  Middlewich  for  quite  a  while;  meantime  she 
would  exert  all  the  cunning  of  which  she  was  mistress 


I'HKEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


175 


to  ruin  the  the  woman  whom  she  both  feared  and 
hated,  and  thus  plant  an  insurmountable  barrier  be- 
tween Rupert  and  his  beautiful  fiancee. 

With  this  mad  scheme  in  mind,  she  ascertained  Mrs. 
Alexander's  address,  and  boldly  went  one  morning  to 
face  her  enemy  in  her  own  domain. 

But  she  was  bitterly  disappointed  to  learn  that  she 
was  not  in  town.  She  was  away  on  a  little  trip,  the 
landlady  told  her;  she  might  be  gone  a  week  longer; 
she  might  not  return  even  at  the  end  of  that  time. 
*'The  rooms  were  paid  for  in  advance  for  three  months, 
so  the  woman  had  not  asked  when  they  would  return, 
nor  whither  they  were  going,  but  she  had  heard  the 
young  lady  say  something  about  a  visit  to  Edin- 
burgh ;  possibly  they  had  gone  there." 

So  Lady  Linton  had  to  rest  on  her  belligerent  oars 
for  a  season,  though  she  resolved  to  be  on  the  alert 
to  act  as  soon  as  Mrs.  Alexander  and  her  daughter 
should  return. 

A  couple  of  weeks  later  she  went  one  morning  to 
do  some  shopping  for  Lillian  on  Oxford  street,  and 
just  as  she  was  about  to  enter  a  fashionable  furnish- 
ing store  the  door  opened,  a  lady  came  out,  and — she 
stood  face  to  face  once  more  with  Mrs.  Alexander. 

An  angry  red  suffused  Lady  Linton's  face,  an  omi- 
nous flash  lighted  her  cold,  gray  eyes. 

''Ah !  so  you  have  returned,"  she  said,  sharply,  and 
planting  herself  directly  in  the  path  of  her  foe. 

She  was  looking  very  lovely — so  lovely,  indeed,  that 
her  ladyship  marveled  at  her  beauty.  She  wore  a 
black  silk  dress,  simply  made,  but  of  richest  texture, 
an  elegant  mantle  of  black  velvet  heavily  trimmed 
with  jet,  a  bonnet  of  the  same  material,  relieved  by 


176 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


three  graceful  ostrich  tips  of  cream-white;  and  the 
dainty  affair  was  bewitchingly  becoming;  her  hands 
were  faultlessly  gloved,  and  a  single  half-blown  La- 
margue  rose  had  been  drawn  into  one  of  the  fasten- 
ings of  her  mantle,  its  pale  yellow  petals  nestling  lov- 
ingly among  the  rich  folds  of  velvet.  There  was  the 
daintiest  bloom  on  her  cheeks,  her  eyes  were  bright, 
her  whole  face  animated,  and  she  was  a  woman  to  at- 
tract admiring  attention  wherever  she  went. 

Lady  Linton  congratulated  herself  that  her  brother 
was  far  from  London,  for  she  well  knew  that  it  would 
need  but  one  glance  at  this  beautiful  picture  to  bring 
him  a  hopeless  captive  to  her  feet  once  more. 

Mrs.  Alexander  slightly  raised  her  brows  at  her 
ladyship's  abrupt  manner  of  address,  bowed  politely, 
and  would  have  passed  on,  but  the  other  laid  a  de- 
taining hand  upon  her  arm,  and  drew  her  into  a  little 
vestibule  just  inside  the  door. 

''I  want  to  speak  to  you,"  she  said,  authoritatively. 

''Certainly;  I  am  at  your  service.  Lady  Linton," 
was  the  quiet,  lady-like  reply,  and  Virgie's  full,  blue 
eyes  looked  calmly  down  upon  the  sallow  counte- 
nance before  her,  as  she  waited  to  learn  why  she  had 
been  so  unceremoniously  detained. 

''Why  have  you  come  to  London?"  Lady  Linton  in- 
quired, brusquely. 

Mrs.  Alexander  drew  herself  up  a  trifle,  and  hesi- 
tated a  moment  before  replying;  then  she  said, 
gravely : 

"Partly  upon  business ;  partly  for  health." 

"Health!"  scornfully  repeated  Lady  Linton,  with 
a  quick  upward  glance  into  that  beautiful,  blooming 
face. 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


17T 


A  musical  laugh  rippled  over  ]Mrs.  Alexander's  lips, 
and  she  flushed  an  exquisite  color;  for  both  glance 
and  emphasis,  although  not  so  intended,  were  a 
marked  compliment  to  her  appearance. 

''You  think  I  do  not  need  to  go  anywhere  in  search 
of  health/'  she  observed.  'That  is  true,  just  now,  al- 
though I  was  far  from  well  when  I  left  America." 

"\yh2Lt  is  your  'business'  here?"  demanded  her  com- 
panion, ignoring  her  reply. 

"Really,  Lady  Linton,'^  Mrs.  Alexander  returned, 
coldly,  "I  do  not  know  as  I  feel  obliged  to  explain  that 
to  you  just  yet." 

"Just  yet!"  repeated  the  other,  with  a  sudden  heart- 
bound.   "What  am  I  to  understand  by  that?" 

"Just  what  you  choose,  Lady  Linton." 

"Is  your  'business'  connected  in  any  way  with  that 
threat  which  you  made  in  my  presence  more  than 
eight  years  ago?" 

"Ah  I  then  you  have  not  forgotten  what  happened 
more  than  eight  years  ago?" 

Lady  Linton  colored  angrily. 

"I  could  almost  wish  that  I  had  died  then,  rather 
than  that  you  should  have  saved  me!"  she  said,  pas- 
sionately. 

"Why?" 

Gravely,  almost  solemnly,  the  brief  inquiry  was 
made. 

"Because  I  hate  you!  You  came  between  me  and 
some  of  my  brightest  hopes.    Because  you  " 

"No,  it  is  not  wholly  that,"  Virgie  interposed  quietly, 
while  her  grave,  beautiful  eyes  searched  Lady  Lin- 
ton's  face,  w^th  something  of  pity  in  them:  "It  is  be- 


178  THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


cause  you  have  injured  me,  and  one  is  apt  to  dislike 
and  shrink  from  another  whom  one  has  wronged." 

*'How  have  I  wronged  you?"  demanded  Lady  Lin- 
ton, in  a  startled  tone,  and  wondering  how  much  the 
woman  knew. 

''I  do  not  need  to  tell  you.  Your  own  conscience 
needs  no  other  accuser  than  itself,"  was  the  calm  re- 
ply. "But  it  would  have  been  far  better  had  your 
ladyship  constituted  yourself  my  friend  instead  of  my 
enemy." 

"I  could  never  be  your  friend.  I  shall  be  your  foe 
to  the  bitter  end,  and  it  was  to  warn  you  of  this  that 
I  detained  you  today.  If  you  have  come  to  London 
with  the  intention  of  thrusting  yourself  and  your 
daughter  upon  my  brother,  let  me  tell  you  to  beware! 
You  are  a  divorced  woman;  you  have  no  claim  what- 
ever upon  Sir  William  Heath,  and  your  child  shall 
never  be  acknowledged  by  his  name.  I  have  vowed 
this,  and  I  mean  it.  You  may  think  it  all  an  idle  threat, 
but  if  you  are  in  London  one  month  from  today  it  will 
be  at  your  peril.  I  will  ruin  you.  I  will  so  shame 
and  humiliate  you  that  you  will  be  glad  to  hide  your- 
self from  all  who  know  you.  I  will  do  even  worse  if 
need  be.  Nothing  shall  hinder  me  from  making  sure 
work  this  time." 

She  was  actually  hoarse  with  passion  as  she  con- 
cluded. 

'This  time.  Lady  Linton?  Then  it  was  your  work 
that  other  time.  You  acknowledge  it?"  said  Mrs. 
Alexander,  in  a  calm  tone,  and  without  a  trace  of  ex- 
citement in  either  face  or  manner. 

She  was  as  unruffled  as  when  Lady  Linton  first  met 
iher ;  she  had  not  even  lost  a  vestige  of  color.  All  the 


THREADS  GATHEEED  UP 


179 


change  that  was  visible  in  her  was  a  half-sorrowful 
light  in  her  beautiful  blue  eyes,  a  grave,  pitiful  ex- 
pression about  her  mouth. 

Lady  Linton  saw  instantly  that  she  had  made  a  mis- 
take; in  her  anger  and  hatred  she  had  admitted  more 
than  was  wise  or  prudent,  and  she  grew  very  pale. 

"I  acknowledge  nothing;  I  only  warn  you,"  she  said, 
almost  fiercely. 

"Lady  Linton,"  her  companion  answered  com- 
posedly, "your  threats  do  not  move  me ;  they  cannot 
hurt  me,  and  I  fear  they  will  but  recoil  upon  your 
own  head.  Believe  me,  I  would  much  rather  be  upon 
friendly  terms  with  you.  I  feel  more  like  forgiving  the 
injuries  of  the  past  than  cherishing  hostile  feelings. 
I  could  even  at  this  moment  take  your  hand — the 
hand  that  wrote  such  cruel  things  of  me  so  many  years 
ago — and  say,  'Let  us  be  at  peace;'  but  you  will  not, 
and  I  must  go  my  way  and  leave  you  to  go  yours, 
hoping  that  before  it  is  too  late  for  repentance  to  avail 
you  anything,  a  better  spirit  may  possess  you.^' 

"You  defy  me  then?*  said  Lady  Linton,  through 
tightly  closed  teeth. 

"Oh,  no;  I  do  not  defy  you,'*  was  the  pleasant  re- 
joinder. "You  are  very  angry,  Lady  Linton,  because 
I  will  not  allow  myself  to  be  frightened  and  brow- 
beaten by  you,  but  3-ou  will  feel  differently  by  and  by 
■when  you  come  to  consider  matters  in  another  light. 
I  would  rather  do  you  a  kindness  than  harm,  and,  by 
the  way,  I  have  a  package  belonging  to  you  which  I 
mean  to  return  to  you  very  soon." 

"A  package  belonging  to  me!  Where  did  you  get 
it?" 


180 


THEEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


"It  is  one  that  I  have  had  many  years,  but  I  have 
only  recently  discovered  that  it  is  yours." 

"It  is  impossible  that  you  can  have  anything  of 
jnine,"  returned  Lady  Linton,  coldly. 

Her  companion  smiled  slightly,  then  said: 

"An  uncle  of  mine  was  returning  from  the  far  East 
some  twelve  or  thirteen  years  ago,  and,  on  his  way 
from  London  to  Edinburgh,  rode  in  the  same  railway 
carriage  with  a  lady  who  got  out  at  one  of  the  way 
stations.  He  never  knew  which  station  it  was,  for  he 
had  fallen  asleep  shortly  after  leaving  London,  and 
when  he  awoke  she  was  gone.  He  found  a  package, 
however,  which  she  had  dropped  and  which  he  could 
not  return,  because  there  was  no  name  upon  it,  there- 
fore he  was  forced  to  take  it  home  to  America  with 
him.  He  confided  it  to  me  on  his  death-bed  with  the 
injunction  to  return  it  to  the  owner  if  I  should  ever 
be  so  fortunate  as  to  meet  her.  I  discovered  on  the 
evening  of  our  meeting  at  Lady  Dunforth's  that  you 
were  the  owner." 

"I  assure  you  that  you  are  mistaken.  I  never  lost 
a  package  in  a  railway  carriage,"  returned  Lady  Lin- 
ton, haughtily. 

"No,  but  a  friend  to  whom  you  confided  it,  lost  it." 

""'What — who?"  demanded  her  ladyship,  with  a  start. 

"The  way  I  learned  that  it  belonged  to  you,"  Mrs 
Alexander  resumed,  "was  by  observing  upon  the  panel 
of  your  carriage  door,  as  I  left  Lady  Dunforth's  that 
evening,  the  Linton  coat  of  arms.  The  seal  upon  the 
package  of  which  I  speak  is  stamped  with  a  shield 
bearing  a  patriarchal  cross  and  the  motto  *Droit  et 
hoyal'  and  there  is  also  written  upon  the  wrapper 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


181 


this  sentence,  'To  be  destroyed  unopened  in  the  event 
of  my  death.' " 

Lady  Linton  had  shrunk  back  appalled  during  this 
description,  and  now  stood  leaning  against  the  wall, 
white,  trembling  while  great  beads  of  perspiration 
stood  about  her  mouth  and  on  her  forehead. 

''Great  heavens!  have  you  got  that?"  at  last  burst 
from  her  quivering  lips,  in  a  tone  or  horror. 

"Yes!  it  is  a  singular  coincidence,  is  it  not?'*  in- 
quired her  companion,  serenely.  "However,  I  will  re- 
turn it  to  you  very  soon.  And  now,  good-morning, 
Lady  Linton.  This  will  be  a  very  busy  day  for  me, 
and  I  must  not  tarry  longer," 

With  these  words,  Virginia  Alexander  swept  by  the 
stricken  woman  with  a  courteous  inclination  of  her 
head,  and  went  on  her  way,  apparently  unruffled  by 
anything  that  had  occurred  during  the  spirited  inter- 
view with  her  sworn  enemy,  Sir  William  Heath's  sis- 
ter. 

Lady  Linton  stood  for  a  moment  or  two  utterly 
motionless,  almost  paralyzed  by  the  startling  revela- 
tions which  her  brother's  former  wife  had  just  made 
to  her,  and  then  she,  too,  tottered  from  the  place,  mur- 
muring : 

"To  think  that  she,  of  all  persons,  should  have  had 
that  during  these  years !  What  a  fool  I  have  been ! 
But,"  she  continued,  with  an  ominous  glitter  in  her 
steely  eyes,  "the  die  is  cast — it  will  now  take  desper- 
ate measures  indeed  to  secure  my  own  safety  and  ac- 
,complish  her  defeat." 

She  returned  directly  home,  for  she  had  neither  the 
strength  nor  the  heart  to  purchase  fashionable  gew- 


182 


THKEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


gaws  for  Lillian;  at  least  until  she  had  recovered 
somewhat  from  the  shock  she  had  just  received. 

Upon  her  arrival  she  found  still  another  letter  from 
Sir  William  awaiting  her,  and  one  which  filled  her 
with  astonishment  and  put  an  entirely  different  aspect 
upon  the  future,  while  a  portion,  at  least,  of  its  con- 
tents was  calculated  to  electrify  his  whole  household 
as  well  as  society  at  large. 


THEE  ADS  GATHEEED  UE 


1^ 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A  STARTLING  AXXOUXCEMEXT. 

Lady  Linton's  letter  was  handed  to  her  by  the  but-- 
ler  just  as  she  was  sitting  down  to  lunch. 

She  had  come  in  just  as  the  bell  rang,  and  leaving 
her  bonnet  and  wraps  in  the  hall,  went  directly  to  the 
dining-room  without  going,  as  usual,  to  her  room  to 
make  a  change  in  her  toilet ;  she  ^vas  far  too  wear}^' 
and  shaken  to  mount  the  stairs. 

She  broke  the  seal  absently,  and  began  to  read  in  a 
listless,  preoccupied  way,  when  all  at  once  she  uttered 
a  startled  exclamation,  and  the  paper  dropped  from 
her  nenv'eless  fingers  upon  the  table. 

"Why,  mamma,  what  is  it?  You  are  as  pale  as  a 
ghost.  Is  Cousin  William  w-orse  or — dead?"  ex- 
claimed Lillian,  regarding  her  mother  with  mingled 
curiosity  and  astonishment. 

"No,  but  the  strangest  thing  in  the  world  has  hap^ 
pened." 

"It  must  be  something  strange  to  disturb  your 
equanimity  like  this;  but  what  is  it?"  inquired  the  girl, 
eagerly. 

''Your  L'ncle  William  is  going  to  be  married!" 

''You  cannot  mean  it,  mamma? — at  last!"  cried  Lil- 
lian, amazed;  then  she  added,  wdth  a  gay  laugh:  "The 
dear  old  bachelor !  Well,  you  will  have  your  wish,  after 
all.  You  have  wanted  him  to  marry  for  the  last  dozen 
years."  : 


^84         3:heeads  gathered  up. 

"Yes;  and — I  am  glad — I  am  delighted!"  replied 
Lady  Linton,  slowly,  but  with  strange  exultation  in 
her  voice,  while  her  eyes  gleamed  with  almost  fero- 
cious triumph. 

"Well,  I  am  astonished.  I  had  given  Uncle  Will  up 
as  a  hardened  case,"  Lillian  said,  growing  more  and 
more  surprised,  as  she  considered  the  matter;  "but  do 
tell  me  who  is  the  happy  woman?" 

"A  niece  of  Lord  Norton  who  has  just  died;  you 
know  we  read  of  his  death  last  week,  and  I  have  been 
wondering  why  your  uncle  did  not  write.  This  ac- 
counts for  it,"  replied  Lady  Linton.  Then  taking  up 
his  letter,  she  continued:  "I  will  read  you  what  he 
says.  T«lie  epistle  is  very  brief,  and  does  not  sound 
like  him  at  all,  but  I  suppose  we  must  excuse  it  under 
the  circumstances." 

"  'You  will  doubtless  be  surprised  by  the  contents 
of  this  letter,'  he  writes,  *and  as  I  have  much  on  my 
mind,  I  will  simply  state  bare  facts,  leaving  details 
until  my  return.  You  already  know  of  my  having 
taken  my  cousin's  place  as  temporary  amanuensis  to 
Lord  Norton.  I  was  enabled  to  complete  the  manu- 
script for  him  the  week  before  his  death,  which  oc- 
curred on  the  ninth.  But,  during  my  visits  to  him,  I 
met  a  niece  of  his,  who,  I  may  say,  is  the  most  beauti- 
ful woman  I  have  ever  seen.  By  his  lordship's  will 
she  becomes  the  heiress  to  all  his  possessions,  which 
consist  of  his  fine  estate  called  Englewood,  here  in 
Chester,  besides  a  large  amount  of  personal  property. 
To  make  a  long  story  short,  however,  I  am  going  to 
make  this  lady  my  wife,  and  as  I  am  too  old  to  waste 
any  time  upon  forms  or  so-called  etiquette,  we  intend 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


185 


to  be  married  immediately — that  is,  within  the  month 
— about  the  twenty-first,  I  think,  after  which  we  shall 
repair  to  Heathdale,  where  we  shall  quietly  remam 
for  the  present.  The  w^edding  will  be  strictly  private 
on  account  of  his  lordship's  recent  death  and  in  com- 
pliance with  the  request  of  his  niece.  I  will,  however, 
notify  you  further  of  my  plans  before  the  twenty- 
first/  " 

The  epistle  closed  abruptly  and  rather  formally,  and 
Lady  Linton's  face  was  crimson  as  she  concluded  the 
reading  of  it. 

"It  is  the  most  unheard  of  thing  in  the  world she 
said,  excitedly.  "A  private  wedding,  indeed — not  even 
his  own  sister  invited,  and  it  is  all  so  sudden  that  it 
fairly  takes  my  breath  away." 

"They  might  at  least  have  asked  us  to  go  to  Engle- 
wood  to  witness  the  ceremony,"  Lillian  observed, 
thoughtfully.  "The  letter  doesn't  sound  a  bit  like 
Uncle  Will." 

"I  suppose  he  is  so  taken  up  with  his  bride-elect 
that  he  has  not  much  time  or  thought  for  any  one 
else;  but  he  might  have  told  us  something  about  her; 
he  did  not  even  mention  her  name;  I  suppose,  how- 
ever, we  are  to  infer  that  she  is  a  Miss  Norton.  I 
wonder  whether  she  is  young  or  old?"  Lady  Linton 
said,  in  an  injured  tone,  and  looking  both  perplexed 
and  annoyed. 

"He  says  she  is  beautiful,  mamma." 

"Of  course;  one's  betrothed  is  always  beautiful  to 
the  man  who  is  to  be  married.  They  are  going  directly 
to  Heathdale,"  she  added,  musingly.  "There  ought  to 
be  some  one  there  to  receive  them,  and  the  house  needs 


186 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


preparation  for  the  occasion.  I  think,  Lillian,  that, 
notwithstanding  I  have  been  rather  shabbily  treated 
in  this  affair,  I  shall  go  down  to  Heathdale  and  give 
them  the  best  welcome  possible  at  so  short  a  notice.  I 
can  at  least  brighten  things  up  and  arrange  for  a  small 
dinner-party  and  reception  in  honor  of  the  bride." 

^'Perhaps  they  would  prefer  not  to  meet  anyone  just 
yet,  mamma,"  Lillian  suggested. 

cannot  help  it.  Such  a  home-coming  as  that 
would  be  too  dismal,  and  not  at  all  in  keeping  with  the 
dignity  of  the  family.  I  shall  take  matters  into  my 
own  hands  and  conduct  the  affair  as  I  think  best.  We 
will  go  to  Heathdale  the  last  of  the  week." 

Her  ladyship  fell  into  a  profound  reverie  after  an- 
nouncing this  decision,  while  Lillian  took  up  the  morn- 
ing paper  and  began  to  read. 

Lady  Linton  was  deeply  hurt  by  the  way  that  her 
brother  had  written  of  his  approaching  marriage,  and 
more  so  at  having  been  ignored  in  all  the  arrange- 
ments; yet  in  spite  of  all  this  she  was  secretly  jubilant 
over  the  fact  that  Sir  William  was  about  to  bring  a 
mistress  to  Heathdale.  It  would  relieve  her  of  a  great 
burden;  of  all  further  plotting  and  intrigue  regarding 
the  enemy  whom  she  had  encountered  only  that  day. 
Virginia  Alexander  might  do  her  worst  now — once 
let  the  twenty-first  of  December  pass  and  she  need 
fear  her  no  more.  She  might  succeed  in  securing  an 
acknowledgment  from  Sir  William  that  Virgie  was  his 
lawful  child  and  a  settlement  of  a  portion  of  his  prop- 
erty upon  her;  but  there  would  be  no  longer  any  fear 
of  the  long-parted  husband  and  wife  coming  to  an  un- 
derstanding with  each  other — she,  at  least,  would 
never  come  to  Heathdale  to  queen  it  as  mistress. 


THKEADS  GATHERED  UP. 


187 


She  had  heard  of  Lord  Norton.  He  was  reputed 
be  very  old,  very  eccentric,  and  very  literary;  but  she 
had  not  known  of  what  his  family  consisted.  She 
did  not  know,  even  now,  farther  than  that  he  had  a 
niece,  but  in  her  present  mood,  with  that  bitter  hatred 
against  Virginia  Alexander  rankling  in  her  heart  and 
the  fear  that  her  own  past  treachery  was  liable  to  be 
exposed  if  she  was  ever  allowed  to  enter  Heathdale, 
she  was  prepared  to  welcome  Nord  Norton's  heiress 
in  the  most  cordial  manner,  and  her  spirits  rose  light 
as  air  at  the  prospect  of  a  new  sister-in-law\ 

''Mamma,"  said  Lillian,  suddenly  looking  up  from 
her  paper  and  breaking  in  upon  these  musings,  "Uncle 
Will's  engagement  is  announced  here.'* 

"What!  in  the  paper?  Well,  I  must  say  they  are 
rushing  things." 

She  held  out  her  hand  for  the  sheet,  an  evil  smile 
on  her  thin  lips,  as  she  imagined  something  of  the  cha- 
grin and  disappointment  that  Mrs.  Alexander  would 
experience  upon  reading  an  account  of  Sir  William 
Heath's  approaching  marriage. 

There  was  quite  an  extended  paragraph  regarding 
it,  considerable  being  said  about  the  late  Lord  Norton 
and  his  recent  death;  mention  being  m.ade  of  his  hav- 
ing left  the  whole  of  his  large  property  to  a  niece; 
while  the  fact  that  Sir  William  Heath  was  contem- 
plating matrimony  with  the  "beautiful  heiress,"  gave 
rise  to  some  pleasantry,  since  the  "distinguished  bar- 
onet having  for  so  many  years  resisted  Cupid's  most 
artful  endeavors  to  lead  him  to  Hymen's  altar,  his 
friends  and  well-wishers  had  begun  to  fear  that  he 
was  hopelessly  invulnerable." 

"Mamma,  what  will  become  of  us  when  L'ncle  Will 


188 


ITHKEADS  GATHEEED  JJF 


brings  his  wife  home?"  Lillian  asked,  somewhat  anx- 
iously, as  Lady  Linton  laid  down  the  paper. 

The  same  question  had  been  agitating  her  lady- 
ship's mind. 

They  could  not  well  go  to  Linton  Grange,  for  Percy 
was  making  extensive  improvements  in  view  of  his 
own  approaching  marriage ;  they  had  no  home  of  their 
own — in  fact  they  were  wholly  dependent  upon  Sir 
William,  and  Lady  Linton  felt  that  no  place  but 
Heathdale    would  ever  be  like  home  to  her. 

"We  will  not  borrow  trouble  about  that,  Lillian," 
she  answered,  "this  Miss  Norton  may  be  very  young 
and  inexperienced;  in  that  case  she  would  need  some 
older  person,  like  myself,  to  advise  and  assist  her;  so 
I  imagine  that  we  shall  still  be  welcome  in  your 
uncle's  household.** 

That  evening,  at  a  dinner  party.  Lady  Linton  was 
besieged  by  numerous  friends  with  questions  regard- 
ing her  brother's  engagement. 

She  looked  wise,  and  appeared  as  if  she  had  been  in 
the  secret  for  some  time  but  had  not  been  allowed  to 
divulge  anything. 

It  was  true,  she  admitted,  that  the  marriage  was 
rather  a  sudden  one;  but  of  course  it  could  not  have 
occurred  before,  because  of  Lord  Norton's  critical  con- 
dition, and  there  was  no  reason  now  why  it  should  not 
take  place,  except  for  etiquette's  sake,  and  her 
brother  did  not  propose  to  defer  their  happiness  sim- 
ply to  observe  a  law  of  fashion.  They  would  not, 
however,  appear  in  society  at  present,  she  affirmed, 
but  remain  quietly  at  Heathdale,  perhaps  until  an- 
other season,  while  there  would  only  be  an  informal 
reception  of  their  oldest  friends,  at  their  home-coming. 


THEE ADS  GATHERED  UP 


189 


and  to  arrange  for  this  she  was  herself  going  to  Heath- 
dale. 

She  appeared  to  be  very  much  elated  over  the  mar- 
riage, spoke  eloquently  of  the  bride-elect,  of  her  grace, 
beauty,  and  intelligence ;  for  she  was  far  too  proud  to 
allow  it  to  be  known  that  she  had  been  taken  as  much 
by  surprise  as  society  at  large  by  the  announcement 
of  the  event. 

To  Mrs.  Farnum  alone  she  acknowledged  it;  for  that 
lady  called  the  next  day,  and  had  asked  her  point- 
blank  some  questions  which  she  could  not  answer,  and 
she  had  been  obliged  to  confess  that  she  '*did  not 
know-'' 

"Well,  !Miriam,"  said  her  friend,  '^it  is  rather  hard 
on  you,  I  own,  not  to  be  consulted,  or  even  asked  to 
the  wedding,  but  your  heart  will  be  set  at  rest  on  one 
subject — you  need  not  fear  that  Alexander  woman  any 
more  after  the  twenty-first.'' 

''Xo ;  she  may  do  her  worst  then.  I  have  lived  in 
daily  terror  lest  she  should  meet  William  and  every- 
thing would  be  explained.  What  do  you  think.  2vlyra?" 
asked  Lady  Linton,  suddenly.  "She  has  got  tnat 
diary!" 

"What  diary?" 

'That  one  I  gave  to  you  to  keep  for  me,  the  summer 
I  was  on  the  Continent — the  diary  you  lost !" 

"]\Iiriam  Linton  I  how  came  she  by  it?''  cried  'Mrs. 
Farnum,  aghast. 

"She  says  her  uncle  was  in  the  railway  carriage 
with  you  when  you  left  London  that  afternoon  after 

I  had  met  you  at  the  Hotel,  and  you  dropped  it  in 

the  coach." 

''''Well.  I  am  at  least  glad  to  know  hozv  I  lost  it," 


190 


THKEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


returned  her  friend,  in  a  relieved  tone.  ''It  has  been 
a  most  annoying  mystery  to  me  all  these  years.  Does 
she  know  what  there  is  in  it?'' 

''I  do  not  know,"  Lady  Linton  said,  growing  pale. 
*'I  met  her  yesterday  on  Oxford  street,  when  she  told 
me  she  had  it,  and  would  return  it  soon.  If  she  has 
not  opened  the  package,  I  am  all  right;  if  she  has, 
and  ever  sees  fit  to  betray  me  to  Sir  William,  it  will  be 
a  sad  day  for  me." 

''You  were  very  foolish  ever  to  commit  to  paper 
anything  concerning  that  American  escapade." 

"I  suppose  I  was,  but  I  always  keep  a  diary;  there 
are  many  things  of  importance  that  I  like  to  remem- 
ber accurately,  and  a  diary  is  so  convenient  to  refer 
to — it  has  saved  me  many  mistakes." 

"It  would  have  been  far  better  if  you  had  destroyed 
that  year's  notes,  as  I  advised  you,"  returned  Mrs. 
f^arnum. 

"But  it  was  full  of  important  data,  and  I  never 
dreamed  that  anything  could  happen  to  it — it  was  very 
careless  of  you  to  lose  it,"  said  her  ladyship,  complain- 
ingly. 

"I  know  it  was,  and  I  have  suffered  a  great  deal  of 
anxiety  on  account  of  it ;  for,  of  course,  with  all  those 
names  and  dates,  I  am  implicated  almost  as  much  as 
yourself.  Why  don't  you  go  around  to  her  lodgings 
and  get  it  at  once? — your  mind  will  be  at  rest  then. 
If  the  seal  has  never  been  broken,  you  are  as  safe  as 
if  it  had  never  been  lost." 

"True;  I  believe  I  will,"  Lady  Linton  answered, 
brightening. 

She  followed  the  advice  of  her  friend  the  very  next 


THREADS  GATHEEED  UP  191 


day,  and,  calling  at  Mrs.  Alexander's  lodgings,  was 
shown  at  once  up  to  her  private  parlor. 

There  was  no  one  there  when  she  entered,  but  pre- 
sently Virgie  came  in,  looking  charming  in  her  morn- 
ing robe  of  mauve  cashmere,  with  blue  silk  facings, 
and  greeted  her  ladyship  politely,  although  with  some 
reserve. 

"You  wished  to  see  mamma,"  she  said,  "but  I  am 
obliged  to  receive  you  as  she  is  not  in  just  now.  Can 
I  do  anything  for  you,  Lady  Linton?" 

'T  wished  to  see  Mrs.  Alexander  personally,"  re- 
turned Lady  Linton,  haughtily.  "Will  she  return 
soon?" 

"I  am  afraid  not.  She  had  an  engagement  with 
Madame  Gerbier,  her  modiste,  at  eleven,  and  one  with 
her  lawyer  at  one,"  Virgie  explained. 

Lady  Linton  thought  a  moment,  then  she  said : 

"Mrs.  Alexander  told  me,  a  day  or  tw^o  ago,  that 
she  had  a  package  belonging  to  me;  do  you  know  any- 
thing about  it?" 

''A  package  ?"  repeated  Virgie,  looking  mystified ; 
then  she  added,  quickly,  "Oh!  perhaps  it  is  that  sealed 
package  that  mamma's  uncle  found  so  long  ago.  Is 
that  yours,  Lady  Linton?" 

"Yes.  Sealed! — did  you  say  it  is  sealed^'  asked  the 
woman,  breathlessly. 

"Yes,  it  is  sealed  with  a  strange  device  and  motto.'' 

"And  has  it  never  been  opened?"  was  the  eager 
query. 

"Of  course  not;  it  is  just  as  mamma's  uncle  found 
it,"  Virgie  responded,  with  curling  lips,  and  flushing 
indignantly  at  the  implied  suspicion  of  the  woman. 

Lady  Linton  could  have  wept  for  joy.    She  was 


192 


THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


saved!  her  vile  secrets  w^ere  still  all  her  own;  and  if 
she  could  but  get  that  coveted  diary  into  her  posses- 
sion once  again,  she  had  nothing  to  fear;  she  would 
burn  it  without  a  moment's  hesitation. 

"I  am  very  sorry  to  miss  Mrs.  Alexander;  but  per- 
haps you  could  get  it  for  me?"  she  said,  insinuat- 
ingly. 

*'I  do  not  think  I  should  like  to  do  that  without 
mamma's  sanction,"  Virgie  answered;  "but  I  will  tell 
her  your  errand,  and  no  doubt  she  will  take  measures 
to  return  the  package  to  you  at  once.'* 

"Very  well,"  replied  Lady  Linton ;  "tell  her  to  send 
it  immediately  to  my  brother's  residence;  the  street 
and  number  are  on  my  card,  which  you  have.  I  shall 
leave  town  to-morrow,  and  would  like  it  before  I  go." 

Virgie  promised  to  deliver  the  message,  and  her 
ladyship  took  her  leave,  with  a  heart  lighter  than  she 
had  known  for  years,  for  the  burden  of  a  great  dread 
had  been  rolled  from  it. 

But  she  did  not  receive  the  package  before  leaving 
for  Heathdale,  as  she  had  confidently  expected. 

She  had  arranged  to  go  on  the  fifteenth,  taking  Lil- 
lian with  her,  and  although  she  waited  until  the  last 
minute,  hoping  for  the  appearance  of  her  long-lost 
diary,  she  was  obliged  to  depart  without  it. 

She  did  not  worry  over  it  very  much,  however,  for 
she  told  herself  that  if  it  had  been  kept  all  these  years 
with  the  seal  unbroken,  there  was  not  much  danger 
of  its  being  disturbed  at  this  late  day. 

Just  as  she  was  about  to  enter  the  carriage  there  ar- 
rived a  telegram  from  her  brother.  It  contained  just 
two  lines : 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


1&3 


''Shall  leave  Englewood  Wednesday  noon;  arrive 
at  Heathdale  on  the  7:30  express.  Meet  us  there  if 
you  like." 

''Rather  a  curt  bidding  to  a  wedding  feast/'  Lady 
Linton  sarcastically  observed,  showing  it  to  her 
daughter;  but  she  would  have  been  more  than  con- 
tent had  she  not  been  bidden  at  all,  for  her  brother's 
marriage  was,  to  her,  an  unlooked-for  triumph  over 
her  enemy,  a  release  from  a  much-dreaded  doom. 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE  ARRIVAL  AT  HEATH  DALE. 

Upon  her  arrival  at  Heathdale,  Lady  Linton  was 
considerably  surprised  to  find  that  Sir  William  had 
engaged  the  services  of  a  professional  decorator  to 
prepare  his  home  for  the  reception  of  his  bride,  and 
great  improvements  had  been  made  in  many  of  the 
rooms.  The  suite  over  the  library,  and  looking  out 
upon  the  river,  had  been  exquisitely  fitted  up  in  blue 
and  v\^hite,  and  gold  for  his  wife's  special  use,  while 
several  new  pictures  and  pieces  of  statuary  had  been 
added  to  the  already  choice  collection  which  the  old 
mansion  possessed. 

Still,  with  all  this  added  elegance,  it  needed  the 
touch  of  a  tasteful  woman's  hand  to  make  it  really 
home-like,  and  both  Lady  Linton  and  her  daughter 
exerted  themselves  to  make  everything  as  attractive 
as  possible. 

Her  ladyship  realized  that  perhaps  she  was  pre- 
suming a  little  beyond  her  jurisdiction  in  arranging, 
unauthorized,  for  a  dinner-party,  but  she  was  deter- 
mined to  do  honor  to  the  new  mistress  of  Heathdale, 
and  to  show  her  brother  her  entire  approval  of  the 
step  he  had  taken.  She  was  bound,  too,  that  no 
funereal  gloom  should  hang  over  their  first  evening  at 
home,  but  that  all  things  should  wear  a  joyous  and  in- 
viting aspect;  so  she  sent  invitations  to  a  select  few 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


195 


to  come  and  welcome  the  baronet  and  his  bride  upon 
their  arrival. 

The  eventful  day  at  length  dawned — a  bright, 
beautiful  winter's  day,  yet  mild  for  the  season,  and, 
at  an  early  hour,  the  household  at  Heathdale  was  all 
astir,  and  preparations  for  the  grand  event  went 
briskly  forward;  for  everyone,  down  to  the  lowest 
servant,  loved  the  master,  and  was  eager  to  show  him 
honor  on  this  unlooked-for  occasion,  while  all  were 
on  the  alert  to  learn  what  manner  of  a  wife  he  was 
about  to  bring  home. 

The  state  dining-room  was  handsomely  decorated 
for  the  grand  event;  the  best  plate  had  been  polished 
to  the  last  degree  of  brightness,  the  finest  linen 
bleached  and  pressed,  and  a  most  sumptuous  dinner 
was  in  preparation. 

There  were  flowers,  choice  and  rare,  everywhere, 
and  every  room  was  fragrant  with  their  perfume  and 
bright  with  their  beauty. 

A  glowing  fire  was  built  in  the  great  hall,  while  over 
the  carved  mantle  above  the  huge  fire-place.  Lady 
Linton  had  caused  to  be  placed  a  beautiful  shield,  rep- 
resenting the  crest  of  her  family,  and  composed  of 
lilies  and  roses,  with  the  word  ^'Welcome,"  in  im- 
mortelles, surmounting  it. 

At  seven  o'clock  the  guests  began  to  gather;  there 
were  the  Hon.  Mr.  Capron  with  his  wife  and  daughter, 
from  an  adjoining  estate.  The  rector  and  his  genial 
helpmate;  Lord  Alfred  Hartington,  and  his  sister; 
Percy  Linton  and  his  charming  fiancee;  Mrs.  Farnum 
with  Lord  and  Lady  Royalston.  Rupert  had  of  course 
been  included  in  the  list,  but,  not  having  yet  arrived, 


19G         i:hreads  gathered  up 

was  looked  for  on  the  train  from  London,  that  was 
due  a  few  minutes  before  the  one  from  the  west. 

Lady  Linton  was  magnificent  in  garnet  velvet,  point 
lace,  and  diamonds.  She  had  spared  neither  time  nor 
money  for  the  occasion,  and  really  had  never  looked 
so  well  as  now. 

Lillian  wore  simple  white  silk,  with  crimson  roses, 
in  which  she  was  brilliantly  handsome. 

The  remainder  of  the  party  were  equally  well  ar- 
rayed, and  it  was  truly  a  goodly  company  that  gath- 
ered to  welcome  the  Baron  of  Heathdale. 

At  precisely  a  quarter  to  eight  a  carriage  was  heard 
to  arrive,  and  Lady  Linton  hastened  to  the  hall  to  be 
the  first  to  welcome  her  brother  and  his  wife;  but  she 
started  back,  almost  affrighted,  as  she  beheld  instead, 
iWilliam  Heath,  looking  pale  and  thin,  but  bright  and 
smiling,  enter,  leaning  upon  Rupert  Hamilton's  arm, 
and  followed  by  his  wife  and  son. 

"Where  is  my  brother?"  she  inquired,  after  greet- 
ing them  all  most  cordially. 

Rupert  smiled  roguishly  as  he  replied: 

*'They  have  achieved  a  flank  movement  upon  you, 
Lady  Linton;  when  they  saw  the  house  ablaze,  they 
suspected  a  reception,  and  as  a  bride  would  naturally 
be  somewhat  sensitive  about  appearing  before  com- 
pany in  travel-stained  garments,  Sir  William  and  Lady 
Heath  drove  to  the  side-entrance,  and  doubtless  are 
now  in  their  own  rooms.  I  am  commissioned  to  make 
their  excuses,  and  to  beg  that  you  will  send  word 
when  dinner  will  be  served. 

Lady  Linton  at  once  dispatched  a  servant  to  tell 
his  master  that  dinner  had  been  ordered  at  nine 
o'clock,  but  it  could  be  delayed  if  he  desired. 


THEE ADS  GATHEKED  UP 


197 


Sir  William  returned  answer  not  to  make  any 
change,  that  he  and  Lady  Heath  would  be  ready  to 
meet  their  friends  by  half-past  eight. 

The  time  would  have  passed  heavily  after  that, 
had  it  not  been  for  Rupert,  who  was  a  general  favor- 
ite, and  soon  had  the  whole  company  in  the  best  possi- 
ble humor  with  themselves  and  everybody  else,  and 
Lady  Linton  blessed  him  in  her  heart  for  his  genial 
mirth,  his  exhaustless  fund  of  anecdote  and  repartee. 

She  was  very  restless,  however,  and  anxiously 
-watched  the  clock  upon  the  mantle,  while  it  seemed 
as  if  half-past  eight  would  never  arrive. 

All  at  once  she  saw  Rupert  dart  from  the  side  of 
Lillian,  with  whom  he  had  been  talking,  toward  the 
lower  door  of  the  drawing-room,  and  disappear  in  the 
hall. 

Then  there  came  a  murmur  of  surprise  from  the 
opposite  direction,  and  glancing  toward  the  upper 
door,  she  saw  Sir  William  standing  there,  smiling  and 
looking  the  personification  of  joy,  with  a  beautiful 
w^oman  leaning  upon  his  arm. 

Lady  Linton  started  eagerly  forward  to  greet 
them,  when,  all  at  once,  her  heart  bounded  into  her 
throat  with  suffocating  force,  a  blur  came  before  her 
eyes,  her  limbs  trembled  and  almost  sank  beneath 
her. 

What  delusion  was  this — what  trick  of  her  fancy? 

Was  it  a  horrible  nightmare,  or  had  some  sorceress 
suddenly  bewitched  her  sight. 

She  covered  her  eyes  with  her  hand  for  a  moment, 
and  then  looked  again. 

No,  it  was  no  delusion — it  was  no  trick;  for  just 
before  her,  looking  like  a  queen  in  her  rich  robes,  her 


198 


THKEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


face  radiant  with  happiness  as  she  leaned  proudly 
upon  her  husband's  arm,  she  saw  the  woman  who  she 
had  hated  and  wronged  for  long,  long  years ;  whom  she 
had  plotted  to  ruin  and  sweep  from  her  path  forever — ■ 
Virginia  Alexander!  the  chosen  bride  of  her  brother 
in  his  youth,  and  now,  in  spite  of  falsehood,  calumny, 
treachery  and  even  divorce,  his  happy  wife,  and  the 
mistress  of  Heathdale! 

She  was  clad  in  a  reception  robe  of  pale  lavender 
velvet,  simply  piped  with  satin ;  it  faultlessly  fitted  her 
perfect  form,  while  its  ample  train,  sweeping  out  be- 
hind her,  made  her  stately  figure  seem  more  regal 
than  usual.  Diamonds  of  purest  water  sparkled  in 
her  ears,  gleamed  upon  her  bosom,  and  an  exquisite 
crescent  was  fastened  among  the  glossy  coils  of  her 
still  rich  and  abundant  hair. 

Never  had  she  been  more  beautiful,  even  in  her 
3^outh,  than  now,  as  she  stood  upon  the  threshold  of 
her  new  home,  where  she  was  destined  to  reign  for 
long  years  yet,  an  honored  and  idolized  wife. 

Happiness  had  done  much  for  her  during  the  last 
few  weeks;  her  face  had  resumed  its  rounded  out- 
lines; a  delicate  bloom  had  come  into  her  cheeks;  her 
lips  were  like  lines  of  brightest  coral ;  her  eyes  bril- 
liant with  the  exhilaration  caused  by  the  restoration 
of  blissful  hopes. 

Just  behind  her,  and  now  attended  by  Rupert  Ham- 
ilton, was  Virgie,  inexpressibly  lovely  in  cream-white 
silk,  with  no  ornaments  save  a  bunch  of  fragrant 
mignonette  in  her  corsage ;  but,  in  the  eyes  of  her 
lover,  and  to  others  gathered  there,  she  seemed  the 
fairest  vision  of  youth  that  they  had  ever  looked  upon. 

Lady  Linton  afterward  confessed  that  she  suffered 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


199 


more  than  death  in  the  brief  interval  that  elapsed  be- 
fore her  brother  led  his  bride  cross  the  threshold  and 
advanced  to  greet  her. 

But  she  was  a  woman  of  indomitable  will,  and, 
though  her  spirit  for  a  moment  recoiled  beneath  this 
unexpected  blow,  she  resolutely  rallied  her  failing 
courage — an  almost  uncontrollable  rage  took  posses- 
sion of  her  as  she  realized  how  she  had  been  duped 
— fooled;  how  this  overwhelming  surprise  had  been 
deliberately  prepared  for  her,  and,  though  she  was  as 
colorless  as  the  costly  lace  that  was  fluttering  upon 
her  bosom  with  every  pulsation  of  her  fiercely  bound- 
ing heart,  she  swept  haughtily  toward  that  regal- 
looking  couple  until  within  a  few  feet  of  them,  when 
she  made  a  profound  obeisance  before  them,  saying 
with  formal  politeness: 

''Welcome,  Sir  William  and  Lady  Heath,  to  Heath- 
dale." 

She  met  and  bore  her  defeat  superbly,  although  she 
was  sick  at  heart  and  almost  in  a  frenzy  of  anger, 
mortification,  and  humiliation,  at  being  thus  trium- 
phantly confronted  in  her  own  home  by  the  woman, 
whom,  all  her  life,  she  had  schemed  to  crush.  To  think 
that  she  should  have  made  all  these  elaborate  prepara- 
tions and  planned  this  brilliant  welcome  but  to  suffer 
such  an  ignominious  overthrow  in  Virginia  Alexan- 
der's very  presence,  was  maddening  beyond  descrip- 
tion. 

But  she  would  rather  have  died  than  betray  any- 
thing of  the  conflict  within  her,  and,  after  that  one 
obeisance,  she  stepped  aside  to  allow  others  to  offer 
their  greetings  and  congratulations,  and  by  the  time 
supper  was  announced  she  had  recovered,  to  all  out- 


20§ 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


ward  appearances  at  least,  entire  control   of  herself. 

Sir  William  led  the  way  to  the  dining-room,  and, 
without  one  word  to  his  sister,  conducted  his  wife  to 
the  head  of  the  table,  whispering  fondly  as  he  seated 
her : 

"Welcome,  my  darling,  to  your  home  and  to  your 
position  as  mistress  of  Heathdale." 

He  then  sought  his  own  place  opposite,  while  the 
butler  seated  the  other  guests  according  to  their 
rank. 

There  were  two  others  among  that  company  who 
had  recognize"ci  the  new  mistress  of  Heathdale  with 
fear  and  trembling — Mrs.  Farnum  and  her  daughter. 
Lady  Royalston. 

But,  judging  from  Lady  Heath's  gracious  manner 
and  the  attention  which  she  bestowed  upon  all  her 
guests  alike,  there  was  not  one  among  the  company 
whom  she  did  not  regard  in  the  most  friendly  way. 

She  was  simply  charming;  her  bearing  and  all  her 
observances  of  etiquette  were  faultless,  and  once,  dur- 
ing the  meal.  Lady  Royalston  bent  and  whispered  in 
her  mother's  ear : 

''This  is  the  woman  whom  Lady  Linton  scorned 
as  unfit  to  mate  with  a  Heath !  This  is  the  woman 
whom  we  lent  our  aid  to  ruin !  Mamma,  we  ought  to 
go  down  on  our  knees  to  her  and  her  lovely  daughter 
whom  we  have  so  wronged." 

'Tor  Heaven's  sake,  Sadie,  do  not  add  to  my  tor- 
ture," returned  Mrs.  Farnum,  with  pale  lips.  "Re- 
member it  was  all  for  you — I  knew  that  you  loved  " 

"That  will  do,  mamma ;  we  will  never  open  that 
grave  again,"  returned  Lady  Royalston,  losing  some 
of  her  own  color,  "but  I  would  give  much  to  be  able 


THEE ADS  GATHEEED  UP 


201 


to  have  Lady  Heath  for  my  friend,  and  I  am  impressed 
that  we  shall  never  be  bidden  to  Heathdale  again." 

After  dinner,  an  hour  or  more  was  spent  in  social 
intercourse,  during  which  something  of  Sir  William's 
and  Lady  Heath's  story  was  divulged. 

The  baronet  had  insisted  upon  this,  for  Virgie's 
sake. 

"She  is  my  own  daughter,  and  I  must  claim  her  as 
such  before  the  whole  world,"  he  said,  so  as  much 
as  he  deemed  advisable  to  relate,  without  publicly 
compromising  any  one  who  had  been  instrumental  in 
causing  the  misunderstanding  between  himself  and 
his  wife,  he  told  to  his  friends. 

It  was  also  announced  at  the  same  time  that  ^Ir. 
Hamilton,  the  baronet's  ward,  had  won  the  baronet's 
beautiful  daughter,  and  that  there  would  be  another 
wedding  about  Easter. 

When  Lady  Linton  heard  this  she  looked  around 
for  Lillian,  but  she  had  quietly  withdrawn  from  the 
company  directly  after  dinner,  and  did  not  tnake  her 
appearance  again. 

The  evening  was  over  at  last,  and  the  guests  dis- 
persed, pronouncing  Lady  Heath  ''delightful,"  and 
predicting  a  happy  future  for  the  master  of  Heath- 
dale  after  the  romantic  trials  of  his  youth  and  the 
sorrow  of  his  later  years. 

W^hen  Mrs.  Farnum  and  her  daughter  took  leave 
of  Sir  W^illiam  and  his  bride,  the  baronet  simply  bowed 
to  them  without  offering  his  hand,  saying,  with  the 
least  possible  but  unmistakable  emphasis: 

''Good-by,  Mrs.  Farnum;  adieu.  Lady  Royalston." 
And  both  knew  that  all  the  past  had  been  explained, 
and  they  had  received  their  final  conge. 


202 


THKEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


Lady  Royalston's  prediction  had  been  verified. 

When  the  last  guest  had  departed,  Sir  William 
turned  to  his  sister,  his  face  stern  and  cold. 

"Miriam,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  that  made  her  shiver, 
"at  last  I  have  found  my  Virgie,  my  mountain  maid 
v^hom  I  have  loved  all  my  life  long.  But  what  of  the 
lost  years  of  the  past? — the  sorrow,  the  loneliness,  and 
misunderstanding?  What  of  the  hatred  and  treachery 
that  produced  it  all?" 

Every  word  fell  upon  Lady  Linton's  heart  as  if  it 
had  been  a  blow  from  a  hammer. 

She  made  a  gesture  of  despair.  She  could  not  speak ; 
she  felt  that  she  should  go  mad  unless  she  could  soon 
get  away  to  the  quiet  of  her  room  and  be  released 
from  that  fearful  constraint  which  she  had  imposed 
upon  herself  for  so  many  hours. 

Lady  Heath  read  something  of  her  suffering  in  that 
wild  gesture,  and  she  laid  her  lips  against  her  hus- 
band's ear,  whispering: 

"Dear  Will,  we  can  afford  to  be  generous  out  of  the 
abundance  of  our  happiness." 

Sir  William's  face  melted  into  infinite  tenderness  at 
her  plea, 

He  placed  his  arm  about  her  waist  and  drew  her 
fondly  to  him. 

"If  you  can  plead  for  her,  my  darling,  I  should  not 
be  obdurate,"  he  murmured,  tenderly;  then,  turning 
again  to  his  sister,  he  added :  "We  will  talk  further  of 
this  matter  to-morrow.    Good-night,  Miriam." 

With  one  more  stern  glance  at  the  unhappy  woman, 
he  led  his  beautiful  wife  from  the  room,  and  Lady 
Linton,  her  strength  exhausted,  her  proud  spirit 
crushed,  sank  with  a  moan  of  anguish  to  the  floor,  and 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


203 


there  the  butler  found  her  half  an  hour  later  when 
he  came  to  put  out  the  lights. 

He  called  her  maid,  and  together  they  helped  her  to 
her  room,  where  she  spent  half  the  night  in  hysterics, 
and  then,  worn  out,  sank  into  a  profound  slumber  or 
stupor. 


204:  THKEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

A  BACKWARD  GLANCE. 

In  order  to  more  fully  comprehend  the  events  re- 
lated in  the  last  chapter  we  must  go  back  to  the  day- 
following  Lady  Dunforth's  reception,  when  Mrs.  Alex- 
ander's lawyer,  Mr.  Thurston,  called  and  held  a  pro- 
tracted interview  with  her. 

She  had  consulted  him  soon  after  arriving  in  Lon- 
don, and,  after  gathering  all  the  information  possible 
regarding  her  history,  he  informed  her  that  there 
would  be  no  difficulty  whatever  in  establishing  Vir- 
gie's  claim,  as  a  daughter  of  the  House  of  Heath,  and 
this  morning  he  had  called  to  tell  her  that  he  was  ready 
to  arrange  a  meeting  with  Sir  William  whenever  she 
felt  equal  to  the  trial. 

"Must  I  meet  him !"  she  asked,  growing  faint  at  the 
thought. 

"It  will  be  best  for  both  you  and  Miss  Alexander 
to  meet  him  at  the  outset,  for,  of  course,  if  he  is  at 
all  inclined  to  contest  the  claim,  he  will  at  once  de- 
mand the  proof  of  your  identity,"  Mr.  Thurston  re- 
plied. 

Mrs.  Alexander  felt  that  this  would  be  a  severer 
test  upon  her  strength  than  she  had  anticipated. 

She  did  not  wish  to  meet  Sir  William,  and  yet  at  the 
same  time  there  was  an  almost  uncontrollable  longing 
in  her  heart  to  see  him  once  more.  If  she  could  look 
upon  him  without  his  seeing  her,  it  would  be  all  she 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


205 


would  ask;  she  shrank  from  forcing  herself  upon  his 
presence. 

Still  if  it  must  be,  she  resolved  to  brace  herself  for 
the  interview;  she  had  determined  that  he  should 
acknowledge  Virgie  as  his  child,  and  nothing  should 
deter  her  from  accomplishing  her  object. 

"V^ery  well,"  she  said,  ''I  will  be  governed  w^holly 
by  your  advice.  But  what  is  this?"  she  added,  as  he 
laid  a  paper  before  her. 

simply  desire  your  signature  to  this  document 
as  a  mere  matter  of  form,"  the  lawyer  told  her. 

Mrs.  Alexander  signed  it  and  passed  it  back  to  him. 

"Virginia  N.  Alexander,"  he  read;  then  he  started. 

"What  is  your  middle  name?"  he  asked. 

"Norton.  My  grandmother  was  an  English  woman, 
by  that  name,  before  her  marriage." 

"What  was  her  Christian  name?"  Mr.  Thurston 
asked,  eagerly. 

"Nora." 

"Whom  did  she  marry?" 

"A  man  by  the  name  of  Charles  Bradford.  They 
w^ent  to  America  soon  after  their  marriage  and  settled 
in  California,"  Mrs.  Alexander  replied,  wondering  w^hy 
the  lawyer  should  question  her  thus  regarding  her 
family. 

"Did  your  grandmother  have  any  brothers  or  sis- 
ters?" 

"I  believe  there  was  a  brother— Albert  by  name — for 
I  have  heard  my  mother,  who  w^as  called  Alberta,  say 
that  she  w^as  named  for  an  uncle;  but  I  never  knew 
anything  of  him,  as  he  lived  in  England,  and,  after 
my  grandmother's  death,  all  communication  between 
the  families  ceased.   It  was  a  whim  of  hers  to  call  me 


206 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


Virginia  Norton,  for  she  said  she  did  not  wish  the 
family  name  to  die  out  entirely.'' 

Mr.  Thurston  changed  color  and  began  to  look  ex- 
cited. He  drew  a  set  of  tablets  from  his  pocket,  and, 
opening  them,  examined  several  entries  therein. 

"Mrs.  Alexander,"  he  said  at  last,  ''I  believe  you 
have  at  last  unwittingly  solved  a  riddle  that  has  been 
a  very  complicated  one  to  me  and  my  partner  for 
the  last  two  years,  and  which  we  had  almost  despaired 
of  ever  solving." 

"How  can  that  be?"  she  asked,  greatly  surprised. 

"Listen,  and  I  will  tell  you,"  said  the  lawyer, 
"There  is  living  in  Cheshire  County,  England,  a  m.an 
by  the  name  of  Lord  Albert  Norton  " 

"Oh,  I  do  not  think  there  was  ever  any  title  in  our 
family,"  Mrs.  Alexander  interrupted,  smiling.  "I  am 
sure  they  were  people  in  moderate  circumstances,  as 
my  grandfather  went  to  America  to  try  to  improve 
his  condition  in  life." 

"Lord  Albert  Norton  was  a  comparatively  poor  man 
himself  until  he  was  over  fifty  years  of  age,"  Mr. 
Thurston  went  on,  composedly,  "when  he  published 
some  literary  works  of  great  merit.  He  began  about 
that  time  to  interest  himself  in  political  affairs,  and 
was  created  a  peer  of  the  realm  in  1840.  He  has  been  a 
very  eccentric  man,  has  never  married,  but  devoted  ' 
himself  almost  wholly  to  literature  and  politics.  He 
has  amassed  wealth  rapidly  during  the  later  years  of 
his  life,  for,  having  no  one  but  himself  on  whom 
to  expend  it,  his  income  has  accumulated.  He  seldom 
went  into  society  and  rarely  entertained  in  his  own 
home.    He  is  now  about  ninety  years  of  age,  and 


THEEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


207 


although  very  feeble  in  body,  his  mind  appears  to  be 
as  vigorous  as  ever. 

"Two  years  ago  he  applied  to  us  to  look  up  some 
relatives  who  went  to  America  many  years  ago.  We 
were  authorized  to  make  thorough  work  and  spare  no 
expense,  for  his  lordship  was  anxious  that  his  prop- 
erty should  go  to  some  of  his  kindred  rather  than  to 
the  crown  after  his  death.  We  traced  Nora  Norton 
Bradford  to  California,  but  she  had  been  dead  many 
years.  We  found  she  had  had  a  daughter  Alberta 
who  had  married  a  man  by  the  name  of  Alexander. 
She  and  her  husband  were  also  dead;  their  graves 
were  found  in  the  Lone  Mountain  cemetery,  San 
Francisco.  We  learned  that  they,  too,  had  a  daughter 
by  the  name  of  Virginia,  but  she  had  disappeared  from 
the  city  several  years  ago,  and  no  trace  of  her  could 
be  found;  not  until  I  saw  your  signature  this  morning 
did  it  occur  to  me  that  I  had  found  the  heir  for  whom 
Lord  Norton  commissioned  us  to  search  so  long  ago.'' 

Mrs.  Alexander  looked  up  with  a  pale,  wondering 
face. 

*'Do  you  mean  to  imply  that  I  am  Lord  Norton's 
heir?"  she  asked,  in  an  agitated  tone. 

''Exactly,"  replied  Mr.  Thurston,  confidently,  judg- 
ing from  what  you  have  told  me  there  can  be  no  doubt 
of  it.  I  suppose  that  you  have  proofs  of  your  identity, 
however?" 

"Yes,  I  have  my  marriage  certificate  and  an  old 
Bible  that  belonged  to  my  grandmother,  which  con- 
tains, in  her  own  handwriting,  the  date  of  her  birth 
and  marriage,  also  that  of  her  husband's  death  and 
my  mxother's  birth," 

"That  will  be  ample  proof.    And  now,  Mrs.  Alex-| 


208 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


ander,  as  Lord  Norton  is  in  a  very  critical  condition, 
being  liable  to  drop  away  any  day,  we  must  go  to 
Chester  immediately.   When  can  you  be  ready?" 

"In  an  hour,  if  necessary,"  she  replied,  "but  it  does 
not  seem  possible  that  I  can  be  related  to  this  gentle- 
man! I  cannot  realize  it — a  peer  of  the  realm!"  she 
quoted  to  herself  with  a  strange  smile. 

"We  will  submit  our  evidence  to  his  lordship  him- 
self and  see  what  his  verdict  will  be,"  returned  Mr. 
Thurston,  smiling.  "A  train  will  leave  for  Liverpool 
at  two  this  afternoon.  Chester  is  a  few  miles  this  side, 
and  we  will  avail  ourselves  of  that,  if  agreeable  to 
you." 

"Very  well;  I  submit  myself  wholly  to  your  guid- 
ance, in  this  matter,"  Mrs.  Alexander  responded. 
"Meantime,  I  suppose,  my  other  business  will  have  to 
wait." 

"I  should  advise  it;  as  Lord  Norton  is  in  such  a  criti- 
cal condition,  every  moment  is  precious.  It  will  be 
far  better  for  him  to  recognize  you  as  his  heir,  than  to 
be  obliged  to  prove  it  after  his  death ;  and,  madam, 
you  will  occupy  no  mean  position  if  you  become  the 
mistress  of  Englewood,  which  is  the  name  of  his  fine 
estate." 

Mr.  Thurston  then  took  his  leave,  promising  to  call 
in  season  to  accompany  her  to  the  train,  and  then  the 
still  wondering  woman  sought  Virgie  and  related  the 
marvelous  tale  to  her. 

This  was  the  business  that  called  them  so  suddenly 
from  London,  and  which  was  destined  to  bring  about 
even  greater  changes  in  their  lives  before  their  re- 
turn. 

They  arrived  at  Englewood  late  in  the  evening,  and 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


209 


found  his  lordship's  carriage  awaiting  them  at  the  station, 
for  Mr.  Thurston  had  telegraphed  of  his  coming,  and 
stated  that  he  should  bring  two  ladies  with  him. 

They  found  Englewood,  at  least  what  they  were 
able  to  see  of  it,  a  delightful  place.  The  house,  a 
massive  structure  of  stone,  was  an  ancient  affair,  but 
it  had  been  well  preserved,  and  although  it  was  the 
home  of  an  eccentric  old  bachelor,  was  a  most  com- 
fortable and  home-like  dwelling.  Evidently  his  lord- 
ship knew  and  appreciated  the  luxuries  of  life. 

The  following  morning,  Mr.  Thurston  had  an  inter- 
view with  the  invalid  and  informed  him  of  his  recent 
discovery. 

Lord  Norton  expressed  himself  very  much  delighted 
with  the  news,  and  appeared  very  eager  to  make  the 
acquaintance  of  his  grand-niece  and  her  daughter. 

Accordingly,  after  he  was  somewhat  rested,  Mr. 
Thurston  conducted  the  ladies  into  his  presence,  and 
the  moment  his  eye  rested  upon  Mrs.  Alexander,  he 
declared  his  conviction  that  she  was  a  Norton;  ''her 
features  are  very  like  his  sister  Nora's,"  he  said,  "al- 
though her  grandmother  was  not  nearly  as  handsome," 
he  added,  with  a  twinkle  of  humor  about  his  mouth. 

The  old  Bible  and  marriage  certificate  were  brought 
to  him,  and  confirmed  his  statement  regarding  the 
relationship.  He  recognized  his  sister's  handwriting 
immediately,  and  produced  some  of  her  letters  to  com- 
pare with  it. 

"There  can  be  no  doubt,"  Mr.  Thurston  said,  after 
a  careful  examination  of  the  chirography,  "and  I  con- 
gratulate you,  my  lord,  upon  the  fulfillment  of  your 
desire ;  and  you,  madam,"  turning  to  his  client,  "upon 
having  discovered  your  relative." 


210  THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


*'Will  you  stay  with  me,  Virginia?"  the  old  man 
asked,  turning  a  wistful  glance  upon  the  beautiful 
woman.  "It  will  not  be  for  long,"  he  added;  "the 
sands  of  my  life  are  nearly  run  out;  a  few  days,  or 
weeks  at  the  most,  will  end  my  life,  and  it  will  be 
pleasant  to  feel  that  some  of  my  own  kin  are  near  me 
at  the  last." 

Yes,  his  niece  said,  she  would  stay;  her  heart  went 
out  with  a  feeling  of  pity  and  tenderness  toward  the 
man,  who  all  his  life,  had  lived  in  such  loneliness  and 
isolation,  and  she  resolved  that  she  would  devote  her- 
self exclusively  to  his  comfort  during  the  little  while 
that  he  remained  upon  earth. 

Mr.  Thurston  was  detained  a  day  or  two  to  attend 
to  some  business,  relating  to  the  will,  which  gave 
everything,  with  the  exception  of  some  annuities  to 
old  servants,  to  Virginia  Alexander  and  her  heirs 
forever. 

She  had  come  to  Englewood  on  the  very  day  of 
Mr.  William  Heath's  accident,  and  it  was  the  follow- 
ing morning,  at  the  very  hour  of  her  first  interview 
with  her  uncle,  that  Sir  William  Heath  received  the 
telegram  announcing  his  cousin's  critical  condition. 

He,  too,  left  on  the  two  o'clock  train  for  Liverpool, 
reaching  Middlewich  about  the  same  time  that  Mrs. 
Alexander  had  arrived  at  Englewood  the  night  be- 
fore. 

It  was  three  days  later,  that  in  accordance  with  his 
proposition  to  the  Duke  of  Falmouth  to  act  as  amanu- 
ensis to  Lord  Norton  in  his  cousin's  place,  he  went 
to  Englewood  to  begin  his  work  under  the  old  lord's 
direction,  little  dreaming  of  the  surprise  and  joy  in 
store  for  him  there. 


THEEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


211 


When  the  butler  answered  his  ring,  he  stated  his 
business,  and  was  shown  directly  to  the  invalid's 
chamber,  where  he  found  him  propped  up  in  bed  with 
manuscripts  lying  all  about  him,  and  impatiently 
awaiting  his  appearance. 

He  spent  several  hours,  learning  the  plan  of  the 
work,  making  notes,  and  even  venturing  a  few  sug- 
gestions upon  some  points  regarding  which  he  was 
well  posted,  and  then  took  his  leave  promising  to  get 
regularly  to  work  the  next  day. 

As  he  was  following  the  servant  down  stairs,  the 
man  remarked  that  his  carriage  was  not  ready,  but  if 
he  would  step  into  the  library  for  a  few  moments,  he 
would  inform  him  when  it  came  to  the  door. 

He  signified  his  willingness  to  do  3c  and  passed 
down  the  wide  old  hall,  which  was  paneled  in  oak 
exquisitively  carved,  to  a  lofty  room,  furnished  and 
frescoed  in  rich  tints,  and  lined  from  floor  to  ceiling 
with  books  of  every  description. 

It  was  a  most  luxurious  apartment,  and  plainly  indi- 
cated that  the  old  lord,  eccentric  though  he  might  be 
on  some  points,  had  loved  the  elegancies  of  life.  If  he 
had  been  something  of  a  miser,  as  report  accredited 
him,  it  could  not  have  been  in  anything  relating  to 
his  own  comfort  or  tastes. 

Sir  William  sat  down  by  a  table  that  was  drawn 
close  to  a  cheerful  fire,  and,  leaning  back  lazily  in  the 
huge  lounging  chair  stationed  there,  he  took  up  the 
morning  paper  which  lay  open  at  his  hand. 

He  had  read  scarcely  a  dozen  lines,  when  the  door 
behind  him  opened  and  some  one  came  forward,  say- 
ing, in  an  eager  tone : 

"Oh,  Virgie,  I  have  just  found  an  old  Bible  up 


212  THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


stairs,  in  which  there  are  records  of  all  family  births, 
marriages,  and  deaths  for  many  generations;  my 
grandmother's  and  my  mother's  are  among  them  and 
correspond  exactly  with  those  I  have — ah !  excuse  me ; 
sir — I  thought — oh.  Heaven !"  


QTHKEADS  GATHEKED  IIP  213 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

REUNITED. 

Virginia  Alexarxder  had  gone  up  to  her  room  less 
than  half  an  hour  previous,  leaving  Virgie  in  the 
library  reading,  and  snugly  ensconced  in  that  great 
lounging-chair  by  the  fire. 

While  looking  for  something  in  a  closet,  she  had 
come  across  the  old  Bible  referred  to,  and  opening  it 
for  examination,  she  had  found  a  complete  genealogi- 
cal record  covering  more  than  a  century  and  a  half. 

Delighted  with  her  discovery,  she  hastened  back  to 
yirgie — who  meantime  had  stolen  out  for  a  little  ex- 
ercise— eager  to  tell  her  news,  and,  coming  into  the 
room  turning  the  leaves  of  the  book,  she  had  not 
noticed  that  a  stranger  was  there  until  Sir  William 
suddenly  arose,  his  heart  bounding  within  him  at  the 
sound  of  that  well-remembered  voice,  and  turned 
toward  her. 

She  had  not  seen  him  for  more  than  eighteen  years, 
and  he  had  changed  far  more  than  she  during  that 
time. 

Sorrow  had  saddened  him  somewhat;  he  had  grown 
grave  and  dignified,  and  his  hair  had  just  begun  to 
be  streaked  with  silver.  There  were  lines  about  his 
mouth  telling  of  a  grief  that  he  had  never  outgrown, 
there  was  a  wistful  look  in  his  eyes  showing  that  his 
heart  still  yearned  for  the  love  of  his  youth.  His 


214 


THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


form,  too,  had  developed;  he  was  broader-shouldered 
and  stouter. 

But  he  was  a  grand  and  kingly  looking  man,  and  she 
knew  him  in  a  moment. 

The  color  left  her  face;  something  seemed  to  smite 
her  heart  with  a  heavy  blow,  almost  benumbing  her, 
and  she  put  out  her  hand,  catching  at  the  table  for  sup- 
port, while  the  Bible  fell  heavily  to  the  floor. 

But  she  was  very  lovely  even  in  her  pallor  and  con- 
sternation. She  wore  a  tea-gown  of  silver-gray,  with 
a  dainty  fichu  of  lace  and  blue  ribbons,  while,  as  she 
arose  from  the  dinner-table  an  hour  before,  Virgie  had 
selected  some  pink  and  white  roses  and  playfully 
tucked  them  in  her  corsage. 

Even  during  that  first  blissful  year  of  their  wedded 
life  she  had  never  seemed  more  beautiful  or  more  dear 
to  Sir  William  Heath  than  at  that  moment. 

^'Virgie,"  he  cried,  springing  toward  her,  and  would 
have  caught  her  wildly  to  his  breast,  the  past  all  for- 
gotten, conscious  only  that  he  had  found  her,  his  own 
loved  one,  once  more ! 

But  she  rallied  instantly,  though  she  trembled  vio- 
lently and  still  clung  to  the  table  for  support. 

She  put  out  her  hand  to  stop  him. 

"Sir  William  Heath!"  she  said,  weakly,  but  with  a 
haughty  bearing  which  became  her  well,  and  warned 
him  that  he  must  not  approach  her,  causing  him  to 
remember,  too,  that  she  was  his  wife  no  longer,  for 
that  dread  decree  of  the  divorce  court  stood  between 
them. 

Yet  he  loved  her  madly  still;  his  heart  recognized 
her  as  his  wife  in  spite  of  all. 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


215 


"Oh,  Virgie,  I  have  found  you  at  last !"  he  cried,  his 
voice  breaking  in  a  great  sob. 

**At  last  we  meet,"  she  said,  with  pale  lips,  although 
she  thrilled  at  his  words,  ''but  I  did  not  think  it  would 
be  like  this.    Did  you  come  here  to  seek  me?" 

"No,  I  came  upon  business  with  Lord  Norton.  I 
never  dreamed  of  finding  you  here.  Where  have  you 
been  all  these  long — these  endless  years?  Where  is 
our  child?  Oh,  Virgie!  how  can  you  stand  there  like 
that,  so  cold,  so  relentless,  when  you  think  of  that  bond 
between  us?" 

''But — there  is  between  us  a  barrier  as  relentless,  as 
impassable  as  death !"  she  murmured,  with  quivering 
lips,  while  a  film  seemed  gathering  over  her  eyes,  and 
her  strength  almost  failed  her. 

Something  in  her  tone  and  manner  told  Sir  William 
that  she  still  loved  him  in  spite  of  the  misunderstand- 
ing of  the  past,  and  her  present  coldness,  and  his  heart 
leaped  with  a  sweet,  new  hope. 

''Virgie,  there  is  no  barrier — there  has  never  been 
any  barrier  save  that  which  you  yourself  have  inter- 
posed between  us,"  he  said,  eagerly,  and  venturing  a 
step  nearer  to  her. 

Again  she  put  out  her  hand  to  check  him — that 
small,  beautiful  hand  whose  rosy  finger-tips  he  had 
so  loved  to  kiss  in  those  old  days. 

"Your  wife!  your  son!"  she  murmured,  brokenly. 

"I  have  no  wife,  Heaven  help  me !"  he  cried,  the 
veins  standing  out  full  and  hard  upon  his  forehead. 
"What  can  you  mean?  I  have  no  son." 

"Are  they — dead?"  she  asked,  lifting  her  eyes  to  his 
face  for  the  first  time  since  he  haL  first  confronted  her. 

"No,"  he  returned,  briefly,  trying  to  comprehend  her 


216  THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


meaning,  for  of  course  he  never  knew  that  she  had 
seen  his  cousin's  boy  and  believed  him  his. 

"No?'*  Virgie  questioned,  catching  her  breath 
quickly.  Was  it  possible  that  the  beautiful  v^oman 
he  had  married  had,  after  long  years,  discovered  his 
treachery  and  forsaken  him? 

"Virgie,  my  beloved,  I  never  had  but  one  wife," 
5aid  Sir  William,  gravely. 

She  seemed  turning  to  stone  at  those  words. 

Had  there  been  some  terrible  mistake  after  all?  Had 
she  lost  eighteen  years  of  happiness  when  she  might 
have  been  his  loved  and  loving  wife? 

"I  know,"  he  went  on,  eagerly,  "all  about  that 
wretched  blunder  in  the  newspapers,  when  my  cousin, 
William  Heath,  was  mistaken  for  me.  He  was  mar- 
ried to  Miss  Margaret  Stanhope  soon  after  my  return 
to  England,  but  the  notice  in  the  papers  read  as  if  I 
had  been  married  instead.  They  have  a  son.  Oh, 
Virgie !  is  it  possible  that  you  have  believed  Willie 
was  my  boy?"  he  asked,  light  beginning  to  break  in 
upon  his  mind. 

A  moan  of  pain  broke  from  the  pale  woman  before 
him. 

"But  they  told  me.  Lady  Linton  wrote ;  ah !  those 
cruel  letters,"  she  faltered,  in  a  voice  of  anguish. 

"Who  told  you?  what  has  my  sister  "  Sir  Will- 
iam began,  but  that  brave,  long  suffering  heart,  could 
bear  no  more  as  it  realized  all  too  late,  that  the  bitter 
past  need  not  have  been,  and  she  sank  unconscious 
at  his  feet  before  he  could  complete  his  sentence. 

Sir  William  sprang  forward  with  a  cry  of  fear,  and 
raised  her  tenderly  in  his  arms. 

He  laid  her  bright  head  upon  his  breast;  he  bent  and 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


217 


kissed  the  fair,  pale  face  with  passionate,  trembling- 
lips,  and  held  her  to  his  throbbing  heart  with  a  clasp 
that  claimed  her  all  his  own,  in  spite  of  the  cruel  de- 
cree that  had  parted  them  for  so  many  years. 

But  Virgie  did  not  lose  herself  for  more  than  a  mo- 
ment;  the  fall  partially  restored  her,  and  she  began  to 
realize  what  was  passing  even  though  she  had  not 
strength  to  assert  herself.  She  knew  that  she  was 
lying  upon  the  bosom  of  the  man  whom  she  had 
always  loved,  and  it  seemed  like  a  blessed  repose  to 
rest  there,  and  to  feel  his  sheltering  arms  around  her 
after  the  cares  and  struggles  of  the  past. 

She  knew  now  that  he  had  always  lover  her,  and  had 
been  true  to  her,  and  that  the  woman,  who  for  more 
than  eighteen  years  had  been  the  object  of  her  jeal- 
ousy and  envy  was,  as  far  as  he  was  concerned,  but  a 
myth — a  phantom. 

Oh !  the  delight  of  knowing  that  his  affection  had 
never  wavered,  of  realizing  that  he  had  been  as  faith- 
ful to  her  as  she  to  him. 

Her  eyes  unclosed  and  she  looked  up  into  the  fond 
face  bending  over  her,  and  a  quick  flush  of  happiness 
swept  up  to  her  brow,  as  she  met  the  fervent  love- 
light  in  his  glance. 

She  sat  up  and  gently  released  herself  from  his 
clinging  arms,  and  he  raised  and  led  her  to  the  great 
chair  in  which  he  had  been  sitting  when  she  entered 
the  room. 

At  that  moment  there  came  a  knock  on  the  door 
and  the  servant  announced  that  Sir  William's  carriage 
was  ready. 

Sir  William  controlled  his  emotion  as  well  as  he  was 
able,  and  turning  to  the  man,  said: 


218 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


"I  find  I  cannot  leave  for  another  hour  yet,  please 
send  the  carriage  back  to  the  stable,  and  I  will  ring 
when  I  wish  it  again." 

The  man  bowed  and  withdrew,  and  Sir  William 
turned  again  to  his  dear  one. 

*'Are  you  better,  Virgie !  Shall  I  call  a  maid  to  get 
you  something?"  he  asked,  regarding  her  still  pale  face 
anxiously. 

''No,  do  not,"  she  pleaded,  putting  out  her  hand 
beseechingly. 

*'At  least  let  me  get  you  some  water,"  he  said,  and 
going  to  a  table  where  there  were  an  ice  pitcher  and 
goblets,  he  filled  a  glass,  and  brought  it  to  her. 

She  drank  thirstily  and  passed  the  goblet  back  to 
him,  looking  up  with  a  grateful  little  smile  for  the 
service. 

He  bent  impulsively  and  touched  his  lips  to  her  fore- 
head. 

''My  darling!"  he  breathed. 

Again  the  quick  color  flooded  her  face  and  tears 
sprang  into  her  eyes ;  how  she  had  longed  for  years  to 
hear  those  tender  tones ! 

The  sight  of  her  tears  moved  him  deeply. 

He  put  down  the  glass,  and  kneeling  beside  her 
drew  her  again  into  his  arms. 

"Oh,  my  love!"  he  whispered,  a  great  sob  heaving 
his  broad  chest,  "you  have  been  cruelly  deceived,  but 
set  me  at  rest  upon  one  point — tell  me  that  you  love 
me  yet.  I  have  never  been  untrue  to  you  in  thought 
or  deed.  I  have  lived  a  lonely,  solitary  life.  I  have 
been  heart-broken  without  you.  Virgie,  you  were  the 
one  love  of  my  whole  life;  now  tell  me  if  your  heart 
is  still  mine." 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


219 


She  bowed  her  head  upon  his  breast,  melted  by  his 
fond  words,  and  sobbed  in  an  agony  of  grief  for  her 
lost  happiness;  she  twined  her  arms  about  his  neck 
and  drew  his  face  down  to  her  tear-wet  cheek. 

"Oh,  Will,"  she  murmured,  brokenly,  "I  have  ruined 
all  your  life  and  mine!  I  should  have  come  to  you,  in 
f-pite  of  all,  and  to  learn  my  fate  from  your  own  lips. 
We  have  lost  all  these  years  when  w^e  might  have  been 
so  happy.  You  know  that  I  love  you ;  every  day,  every 
hour  of  my  life  my  heart  has  cried  out  for  you.  I 
have  literally  been  starving  for  3^our  love." 

He  needed  no  stronger  proof  of  her  devotion;  he 
knew  that  she  loved  him  as  fondly  now  as  in  those 
months  of  their  early  wedded  life,  and  he  folded  her 
still  closer  to  him,  kissing,  again  and  again,  those  dear 
lips,  which  for  eighteen  years  had  known  no  caress 
save  what  she  had  received  from  her  child. 

Their  reunion  was  perfect  and  complete,  and,  for  a 
little  while,  they  could  think  of  nothing,  speak  of 
nothing  save  the  joy  of  being  once  more  all  in  all  to 
each  other. 

But  at  length  Sir  William  insisted  that  she  should 
tell  him  all  the  story  of  the  past;  how  the  first  suspicion 
of  his  treachery  had  taken  root  in  her  mind,  and  all  the 
circumstances  attending  her  quitting  the  hotel  in  New 
:  York  where  he  had  left  her. 

i  He  was  amazed  when  she  related  Mrs.  Farnum's  in- 
strumentality in  the  matter.  It  had  never  occurred 
to  him  that  she  could  have  been  connected  with  it, 
although  he  had  known  that  she  was  in  America  at 
that  time. 

He  was  furious  upon  learning  how  she  had  garbled 
the  account  of  his  cousin's  engagement  to  Margaret 


220  THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


Stanhope,  and  how  his  sister  had  purposely  misrepre- 
sented facts  in  order  to  accomplish  their  separation. 

He  understood  at  once  the  whole  plot,  and  recalled 
many  things  which  went  to  prove  that  her  ambition 
for  him  and  her  unreasonable  prejudice  against  Virgie 
had  been  at  the  root  of  the  whole  matter. 

"Did  she  dare  write  such  falsehoods?"  he  cried,  as 
yirgie  repeated  some  passages  from  her  letters. 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  "I  copied  both  letters.  I  knew 
that  some  time  there  would  come  a  day  of  reckoning 
between  you  and  me,  and  although  every  line  had 
been  burned  into  my  brain,  as  if  branded  there  with 
a  hot  iron,  I  was  resolved  that  you  should  have  all 
the  evidence  against  you,  and  know  whence  my  infor- 
mation came." 

"Have  you  those  copies  with  you,  darling?" 

"Yes ;  they  are  in  my  trunk." 

"Will  you  go  and  get  them  for  me?  I  want  them 
now,'*  he  said,  with  a  pale,  set  face. 

Virgie  left  the  room  to  comply  with  his  request,  but 
returned  almost  immediately  with  an  envelope  and  a 
package  in  her  hands. 

"These  are  the  letters — both  are  inclosed  in  one  en- 
velope," she  said,  "and  this  is  something  that  belongs 
to  your  sister.  Lady  Linton,"  and  she  handed  both 
to  him. 

She  then  told  him  how  strangely  her  uncle  had  be- 
come possessed  of  that  package  so  many  years  ago, 
and  how  she  had  but  recently  discovered  to  whom  it 
belonged.  She  desired  that  he  would  now  take  charge 
of  it  and  return  it  to  her  ladyship, 

"It  must  be  something  very  important  for  Miriam 
to  be  unwilling  to  trust  it  in  the  house  during  her 


THEE ADS  GATHEKED  UP 


221 


absence/'  Sir  William  remarked,  as  he  examined  the 
seal  and  read  the  sentence  penned  upon  the  wrapper. 
He  laid  it  carelessly  upon  his  knee,  while  he  drew 
the  copies  of  those  miserable  letters  from  their  en- 
velope. 

But  in  so  doing  he  changed  his  position  slightly 
and  the  package,  which  a  moment  before  he  had  laid 
down,  tumbled  to  the  floor. 

It  struck  on  a  corner  and  the  wrapper,  which  was  old 
and  brittle,  burst  from  end  to  end,  revealing  a  book 
about  six  inches  long  by  four  wide,  which  flew  open 
midway  as  it  escaped  confinement  disclosing  pages 
closely  written  in  Lady  Linton's  own  hand. 

"Ah!  a  diary,  I  judge,"  said  Sir  William,  as  he 
stooped  to  pick  it  up. 

Then  he  gave  a  violent  start  as  a  few  words  caught 
his  eye,  and  every  atom  of  color  fled  from  his  face. 

Lady  Linton  wrote  a  very  bold,  almost  masculine 
hand,  and  it  would  hardly  have  been  possible  for  any- 
one to  be  so  near  the  book  and  not  catch  something 
written  there. 

The  words  which  the  baronet  saw  were  under  the 
date  of  August  15,  and  read  thus: 

'•'Another  letter  from  that  girl  in  Xew  York." 

He  lifted  his  glance  for  an  instant  to  V^irgie — hesi- 
tated, then  resolutely  bent  his  eyes  again  upon  the  page 
and  read  on,  while  Virgie  wondered  at  the  act. 

*  *  *  Will  she  never  have  done  sending  her  whin- 
ing, nauseating  love-missives  to  W?"  said  the  diary. 
"My  patience  is  exhausted  watching  the  mail-bag,  lest 
by  some  chance  he  should  get  one,  and  all  my  nicely 
laid  schemes  be  upset  just  as  success  seems  so 
sure." 


222 


THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


He  turned  a  few  leaves,  glancing  with  lightning-like 
rapidity  over  them  until  he  came  to  another  entry  that 
arrested  his  attention. 

"The  plot  has  worked  to  a  charm,  Myra  says  she 
accepted  the  whole  story  for  a  fact,  and  believes  W. 
really  untrue  to  her.  She  claims  though  that  the  child 
is  legitimate,  and  says  she  will  yet  prove  it.  She 
threatens  divorce — not  wishing  to  hold  a  man  unwill- 
ingly bound,  ha !  ha !  If  she  will  only  carry  out  that 
project,  my  heart  will  be  at  rest." 

Still  further  on  he  read: 

*'The  girl  has  gone — disappeared,  and  no  one  knows 
whither.  Her  last  letter  was  really  quite  tragic,  but, 
thank  fortune,  it  was  the  last;  she  said  it  was  a  final 
plea,  but  the  paper  writhed  and  seemed  almost  like  a 
thing  of  life  as  I  burned  it;  it  nearly  gave  me  the 
horrors.  But  I  can  afford  to  suffer  a  few  stings  for  the 
sake  of  keeping  that  low-born  girl  from  disgracing 
the  house  of  Heath.  W.  will  get  over  his  moping  by 
and  by,  and  marry  again  befitting  his  rank;  but  if  he 
does  not,  why,  Percy  and  Lillian  will  be  the  gainers.'* 

The  book  dropped  from  Sir  William's  nerveless 
fingers  at  this  point,  for  a  terrible  passion  was  raging 
within  him  as  the  heartlessness,  the  treachery  and 
cunning  of  his  sister  were  revealed.  He  understood 
everything  now;  he  realized  how  his  sister  had 
schemed  and  plotted  the  ruin  of  all  his  hopes,  out  of 
spite  against  the  innocent  girl  whom  h*^  had  married, 
and  in  the  hope  that  he  would  choose  a  wife  from  the 
English  aristocracy. 

Surely  Mark  Alexander's  prophecy  had  come  true, 
for  that  mysterious  package  had  indeed  proved  useful 
to  Virgie  in  this  crisis  of  her  life.    Sir  William  was 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP  223 


amazed,  shocked,  and  moved  to  fearful  anger  at  his 
sister's  daring  wickedness. 

She  had  robbed  his  mail  bag  for  months,  intercept- 
ing both  his  own  and  his  wife's  letters.  She  had  also 
been  guilty  of  falsehood  and  treachery  of  the  worst 
kind,  hardening  her  heart  against  his  sufferings,  ignor- 
ing the  agony  of  a  beautiful  young  wife  and  mother, 
and  all  the  while  eating  his  bread,  educating  her  chil- 
dren at  his  expense,  and  lavishly  spending  his  money 
to  gratify  her  own  extravagant  tastes  and  whims. 

''Will,  dear,  you  positively  frighten  me !  What  trou- 
bles you?  Your  face  is  terrible  to  look  upon,"  Virgie 
said,  laying  her  hand  gently  upon  his  arm  to  arouse 
him  from  the  stern  reverie  into  which  he  had  fallen. 

He  started  at  her  touch,  took  the  fair  hand  and 
raised  it  lovingly  to  his  lips,  while  a  smile,  that  was 
like  sunlight  after  a  tempest,  broke  over  his  face. 

"I  believe  I  was  in  a  terrible  mood,  my  darling,** 
he  said,  ''but  you  will  not  marvel  when  I  tell  you  all 
that  I  have  read;  no,  I  will  not  tell  you,"  he  added, 
"it  would  be  cruel  to  make  you  live  over  the  past  again 
as  you  would  if  I  should  reveal  all  my  sister's  treach- 
ery to  you.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  all  our  sorrow  has 
been  the  result  of  a  cunningly  devised  and — yes,  a 
fiendish  plot  that  originated  in  her  brain.  Under  ordi- 
nary circumstances  I  should  regard  a  diary  as  some- 
thing sacred  to  its  owner,  but  the  few  words  that 
caught  my  eye  as  I  picked  the  book  up  made  me  feel 
justified  in  reading  more. 

"But,  Virgie,"  Sir  William  concluded,  sternly,  "I 
shall  never  forgive  Miriam  Linton  for  the  ruin  which 
she  wrought  eighteen  years  ago." 

Then  he  read  the  letters,  and  his  ire  grew  hotter 


224  THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


and  fiercer  until  he  came  to  that  portion  where  lady 
Linton  sent  the  money  to  Virgie  and  advised  her  to 
"go  away  to  some  quiet  place,  where  she  was  not 
known,  and  might  be  able  to  bring  up  her  child  in  a 
respectable  way,  so  that  its  future  might  not  be  ham- 
pered by  its  mother's  mistakes/' 

At  this  point,  his  anger  reached  a  white  heat. 

Sir  William  dashed  the  paper  to  the  floor,  his  face 
one  crimson  sheet  of  flame,  and  pressed  to  his  breast 
the  woman  he  so  passionately  loved. 

''My  poor,  wronged  darling,  how  dared  she  write 
such  horrible  things  of  you?"  he  cried,  in  a  shaking 
voice,  ''and  to  send  you  that  paltry  hundred  pounds ! 
[What  must  you  have  thought  of  me,  to  be  guilty  of 
such  a  dastardly  act,  after  taking  away  all  the  fortune 
that  your  father  settled  upon  you?  I  wonder  your  love 
did  not  all  turn  to  bitterest  hatred.  Oh,  Virgie!  Vir- 
gie !  I  feel  as  if  I  could  not  bear  it,  even  though  you 
are  all  my  own  once  more,"  he  concluded,  great  drops 
of  agony  starting  out  upon  his  face. 

''Don't,  Will,"  she  whispered,  clinging  fondly  to  him, 
"it  is  all  over  now;  let  us  forget  it,  if  possible,  and 
.enjoy  to  the  utmost  our  new-found  happiness." 

"Forget!  I  can  never  forget.  I  will  never  forgive 
Ithis  terrible  wrong,"  he  said  sternly.  "Oh,  my  love, 
nothing  can  give  us  back  those  lost  years ;  nothing  can 
ever  make  me  forget  that  for  more  than  eighteen  years 
I  had  a  lovely  daughter  and  never  once  looked  upon 
her  face  to  know  her  as  such.  Miriam  Linton  is  a 
gister  of  mine  no  long^er.* 


TOEEADS  GATHEKED  UP. 


225 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

''god  is  good" 

"To  think,"  continued  Sir  William,  after  a  moment 
of  thought,  ''how  systematically  she  set  about  her 
dreadful  work,  how  remorselessly  she  persisted  in  it 
until  she  had  achieved  her  end.  And  Mrs.  Farnum! 
how  she  could  see  and  know  you,  my  beloved ;  how  she 
could  look  upon  that  innocent  darling,  in  whom  was 
centered  the  hopes  of  both  of  us,  and  lend  her  aid, 
is  a  marvel  and — a  shame  upon  the  name  of  woman ! 
She  shall  never  cross  the  threshold  of  Heathdale 
again." 

'T  cannot  understand  how  she  could  have  lent  her- 
self to  such  a  base  intrigue !"  said  Virgie,  thought- 
fully. 

Sir  William  smiled  bitterly, 

"What  is  it,  dear?"  she  asked,  remarking  it. 

"I  suppose  I  can  give  a  reason,  although  it  may 
sound  somewhat  egotistical,"  he  returned.  "Sadie  Far- 
num— now  Lady  Royalston — once  aspired  to  become 
Lady  Heath,  while  it  was  the  dearest  wish  of  both 
her  mother  and  my  sister,  who  have  been  life-long 
friends,  that  I  should  marry  her." 

Virgie  flushed.  She  could  now  understand  why  she 
had  been  the  object  of  their  curious  glances  when  they 
first  came  to  the  Hotel,  New  York. 

Sir  William  leaned  forward  and  touched  his  lips  to 
her  crimson  cheek  and  murmured: 


226 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


*'But  I  never  saw  but  one  woman  whom  I  could 
be  willing  to  have  reign  as  mistress  in  my  home. 
IVirgie,  I  shall  take  you  to  Heathdale  immediately." 

Her  whole  face  was  dyed  scarlet  in  an  instant. 

"You  forget,"  she  faltered,  humbly,  "I  have  no  right 
to  go  there.  I  have  forfeited  all  title  to  your  name 
and  home." 

''I  did  forget,"  he  answered,  growing  pale  and  sigh- 
ing heavily.  ''I  cannot  realize  since  I  have  found  you 
but  that  you  belong  to  me  now  as  in  those  early  days ; 
and  you  do ;  before  Heaven,  you  are  as  truly  my  wife 
ito-day  as  you  ever  were.  But,"  and  his  arm  closed 
tenderly  about  her,  ''the  only  obstacle  is  a  legal  point, 
and  that  is  easily  removed.  You  wish  it,  do  you  not, 
my  darling?  You  will  come  to  me  at  once?" 

should  die  if  I  lost  you  again,"  Virgie  cried,  cling- 
ing to  him  with  another  burst  of  tears.  "It  has  been  a 
weary  struggle  to  live  without  you  all  these  years. 
But  for  Virgie  I  would  gladly  have  laid  down  the  bur- 
den long  ago." 

"Then  may  I  go  to  London  immediately  for  a  special 
license,  since  we  must  conform  to  the  letter  of  the  law? 
I  can  never  be  separated  from  you  again,"  said  Sir 
William,  as  he  fondly  wiped  her  falling  tears. 

"But  how  can  I  leave  my  uncle.  Lord  Norton?"  Vir- 
gie asked,  suddenly  remembering  that  new  claim  upon 
her  and  her  promise  not  to  leave  him  while  he  lived. 

"Lord  Norton  your  uncle?"  Ah,  that  accounts  for 
your  being  here.  I  could  not  understand  it,"  returned 
the  baronet,  looking  astonished  and  remembering  for 
the  first  time  where  she  was. 

Virgie  explained  how  the  relationship  had  recently 
been  discovered,  and  informed  him  of  his  lordship's 


THEE ADS  GATHERED  UP 


wishes  that  she  should  remain  with  him  for  the  pres- 
ent 

''We  must  respect  the  wishes  of  a  dying  man,"  Sir 
WilHam  gravely  replied,  ''and  I,  too,  had  forgotten  my 
own  obligations  to  him." 

He  told  her  all  the  circumstances  of  his  cousin's 
accident  and  the  summons  that  had  brought  him 
thither ;  of  his  proposal  to  try  and  complete  the  manu- 
script of  Lord  Norton's  book,  as,  of  course,  Mr.  Will- 
iam Heath  would  not  be  able  to  resume  his  work  for 
a  long  time,  and  his  lordship  was  liable  to  pass  away 
without  having  his  heart's  desire  accomplished  if  he 
attempted  to  wait  for  his  recovery. 

So  it  was  finally  agreed  between  them  that  they 
would  wait  at  least  until  the  completion  of  the  manu- 
script before  taking  any  steps  for  their  reunion.  They 
would  see  much  of  each  other  ever}^  day,  while  Sir- 
William  thought  it  would  not  be  liable  to  create  quite 
so  much  excitement  in  society  if  it  was  announced 
beforehand  that  he  was  soon  to  marry  the  niece  of 
Lord  Norton. 

He  declared,  however,  that  his  sister  should  know 
nothing  beyond  that  fact  until  their  return  to  Heath- 
dale;  but  Virgie  was  so  happy  in  being  reunited  to 
the  love  of  her  youth  that  she  was  almost  willing  to 
overlook  and  forgive  Lady  Linton's  instrumentality 
in  her  previous  suffering,  and  even  to  invite  her  and 
her  family  to  be  present  when  their  new  ties  should 
be  solemnized. 

But  Sir  William  was  inexorable. 

''No,"  he  said,  sternly;  "it  shall  come  upon  her  like 
a  thunderbolt  out  of  a  clear  sky.  She  has  always 
wanted  me  to  marry,  and  doubtless  she  will  be  jubi- 


228 


THEEADS  GATHEKED  UP. 


lant  wken  I  announce  my  intentions;  then  she  will 
imagine  her  triumph  over  you  complete,  and  she  shall 
not  be  undeceived  until  she  sees  you  enter  our  future 
home  as  its  mistress,  for,  of  course,  she  will  never 
dream  that  you  and  Lord  Norton's  niece  are  one  and 
the  same  person;  hers  will  be  a  double  punishment 
when  we  all  get  home." 

"Double!  how  so?"  Virgie  asked. 

"It  has  long  been  her  desire  to  marry  Lillian  to  Ru- 
pert, my  ward;  but  it  seems,  my  darling,  that  he  has 
chosen  our  daughter  to  be  his  wife.  How  strange  it  all 
seems,"  he  concluded,  thoughtfully. 

''How  did  you  learn  so  much?"  Virgie  inquired, 
with  some  surprise. 

"The  young  gentleman  himself  came  and  told  me  a 
couple  of  days  ago ;  he  said  he  considered  it  his  duty 
to  inform  me;  but,  let  me  tell  you,  my  sister's  disap- 
pointment will  be  no  light  one  when  she  learns  the 
fact,"  Sir  William  answered,  all  unsuspicious  that  her 
ladyship  had  learned  the  secret  at  the  same  time  that 
he  was  informed  of  it. 

"Does  Lillian  care  for  him?"  Virgie  asked. 

"I  am  afraid  she  does,"  was  the  sober  response. 

"Poor  child,"  sighed  Virgie,  regretfully,  "and  I  am 
really  sorry  for  Lady  Linton's  disappointment." 

"Can  you  so  readily  forgive  my  sister,  Virgie?" 

"I  believe  I  can.  Will;  I  truly  desire  the  spirit  of 
forgiveness  even  for  the  great  wrong  that  she  has 
been  guilty  of ;  and,  since  nothing  can  ever  again  mar 
our  trust  in  each  other,  I  do  not  wish  to  cherish  bit- 
terness toward  anyone.  I  am  truly  grieved  for  Lil- 
lian ;  she  is  not  accountable  for  her  mother's  faults, 
and  I  have  suffered  too  much,  in  believing  another 


THEEADS  GATHEEED  UP 


229 


had  usurped  my  place  in  your  heart,  not  to  feel  a 
deep  sympathy  for  her  in  losing  Rupert.'^ 
Sir  William  sighed. 

He  regretted  Lillian's  unhappiness  too,  for  he  was 
very  fond  of  her.  She  was  a  bright,  beautiful  girl, 
and  for  years  had  been  the  light  of  his  home;  and 
he  believed,  away  from  her  mother's  influence,  she 
would  make  a  noble  woman.  Still  it  was  a  matter 
for  rejoicing  with  him  that  the  young  man  whom 
he  loved  as  a  son  would  soon  become  a  son  indeed. 

Virgie's  meeting  with  her  father  was  quite  touching. 
Her  mother  had  never  told  her  who  he  was.  She  had 
shrunk  more  and  more  from  the  ordeal  as  the  time 
drew^  near  when  it  must  be  revealed. 

She  had  intended  telling  her  the  morning  follow- 
ing Lady  Dunforth's  reception  when  she  had  so  un- 
expectedly learned  that  Sir  William  was  Rupert's 
guardian,  and  she  would  have  done  so  but  for  Mr. 
Thurston's  visit,  his  startling  revelation  of  her  rela- 
tionship to  Lord  Norton,  and  their  sudden  departure 
from  London. 

She  was  glad  now  that  she  had  delayed  the  com- 
munication, for  when  she  now^  made  it,  she  could 
soften  the  otherwise  shocking  intelligence  by  telling 
her  that  all  the  past  had  been  but  a  cruel  mistake, 
which  at  last  had  been  explained  and  rectified — that 
her  father  was  a  true  and  noble  man. 

Virgie  came  in  from  her  walk  just  as  her  father 
and  mother  were  speaking  of  Lillian. 

'There  comes  Virgie,"  said  her  mother,  starting 
up.  *T  must  go  to  prepare  her  for  her  meeting  with 
you." 


230 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


''How  much  does  she  know?"  Sir  William  asked, 
paling  a  trifle. 

"Dear  Will,  she  does  not  yet  even  know  her  own 
name,  nor  who  her  father  is.  I  could  not  tell  her, 
although  I  had  promised  to  do  so  soon,"  Virgie  ex- 
plained, with  quivering  lips. 

The  baronet  bent  and  touched  them  softly. 
"I  am  glad,  my  beloved,  that  you  have  not  told 
her;  the  shock  will  not  be  so  severe  now.  Go,  dear, 
but  send  her  to  me  as  quickly  as  possible,  for  my 
heart  yearns  for  her.  I  know  now  why  her  presence 
affected  me  so  strangely  the  other  evening." 

He  released  her,  and  she  glided  from  the  room  to 
meet  her  daughter  just  outside  the  door;  another  mo- 
ment and  she  would  have  entered. 

*'Mamma,  what  is  it?"  the  young  girl  exclaimed,  as 
she  read  in  her  expressive  face  something  of  the  great 
change  that  had  come  to  her  during  the  last  hour. 

"Come  with  me,  dear;  I  have  something  to  tell  you," 
her  mother  said,  and  she  slipped  her  arm  about  her 
waist  and  drew  her  into  a  small  room  opposite. 

In  as  few  words  as  possible  she  told  her  all  that 
had  occurred,  and  the  name  of  her  father — the  name 
which  she  had  so  long  withheld  from  her. 

"Sir  William  Heath,  Rupert's  guardian,  my  father!'* 
said  the  bewildered  girl,  looking  utterly  dazed  by  the 
startling  information. 

"Yes,  darling.  It  is  a  romance  in  real  life,  is  it 
not? — and  one  which  will  end  more  happily  than  such 
romances  usually  do,"  was  the  smiling  reply,  although 
there  were  tears  upon  the  grateful  woman's  cheeks. 

"That  accounts  for  a  great  deal,"  said  Virgie,  mus- 
ingly. 


THEE  ADS  GATHEEED  UP. 


231 


*'Such  as  what,  for  instance?" 

'•'Your  strange  actions  the  other  evening  when  Ru- 
pert told  you  who  is  guardian  was." 

"Yes;  I  utterly  lost  my  self-possession  then.  It 
was  an  unlooked-for  shock,  and  I  feared  that  matters 
were  going  to  be  terribly  mixed  when  you  came  to 
marry  Rupert.  But,  darling,  we  must  not  keep  your 
father  waiting  ;  he  is  longing  for  you.  Remember,  he 
has  never  yet  looked  upon  the  face  of  his  own  child, 
to  recognize  her  as  such." 

''But,  mamma,"'  \'irgie  began,  a  startling  thought 
coming  to  her,  "you  are — ycu  are  not  " 

Then  she  faltered  and  stopped,  her  face  covered  with 
confusion. 

T  am,  and  I  am  not.'  is  rather  an  ambiguous  state-^ 
ment,  is  it  not,  dear?"  was  the  arch  retort,  although 
her  mother  was  also  flushed  as  she  caught  her  mean- 
ing. *T  understand  your  trouble^  dear,"'  she  added» 
more  gravely,  "and  everything  is  to  be  set  right  in  a 
little  while.  This  reunion  will  soon  be  properly  sol- 
emnized, and  then  we  shall  all  go  home  together. 
Now  go.  and  I  will  follow  you  in  a  few  minutes."" 

She  led  the  beautiful  girl  to  the  door,  kissed  her 
tenderly,  and  sent  her  to  Sir  William.  Then  she  sped 
swiftly  up  to  her  own  room,  where,  locking  herself  in, 
she  fell  upon  her  knees  and  sobbed  out  her  grateful 
thanks  for  the  great  joy  that  had  been  sent  to  her 
that  day. 

Virgie,  her  heart  all  aglow  with  love  and  happi- 
ness, went  straight  to  the  library. 

Softly  opening  the  door,  she  put  her  flushed,  beauti^ 
ful  face  within,  saying,  with  charming  eagerness : 

"^lamma  says  that — that  my  father  is  here." 


232 


THREADS  GATHERED  UE 


Sir  William  turned  at  the  sound  of  that  sweet  voice, 
his  whole  soul  in  his  face,  and  held  out  his  arms  to 
her. 

"Virgie!  my  child!"  he  cried,  in  a  tone  that  thrilled 
her,  and  her  heart  instantly  owned  its  kindred,  with- 
out a  doubt  of  fear. 

She  sprang  to  his  breast,  laughing  and  sobbing  all 
at  once,  and  his  kisses  were  rained  upon  her  upturned 
face. 

"Oh,  my  baby,  whom  I  never  saw!  my  darling  for 
whom  my  heart  has  yearned  so  many  years!  God  is 
good  to  give  both  my  treasures  to  me,  so  fair  and  lov- 
ing,'' he  murmured,  fondly,  while  his  own  tears  min- 
gled with  hers,  and  his  chest  heaved  with  the  emo- 
tion he  could  not  control. 

"Papa!"  Virgie  breathed,  with  a  tender  inflection 
that  touched  him  deeply;  "to  think  that  I  have 
never  been  able  to  say  it  before,  while  I  have 
hardly  dared  to  speak  of  you  at  all,  because  of  the 
suffering  it  caused  mamma." 

"How  has  she  accounted  for  my  absence,  love?" 

"She  has  always  told  me  that  you  went  over  the 
sea  and  were  lost.  Only  since  coming  to  London  have 
I  learned  that  you  were  living." 

"It  was  better  so,"  the  baronet  murmured,  with 
a  sigh.  "It  was  better  to  have  you  think  me  dead, 
than  guilty  of  the  unfaithfulness  which  she  was  led 
to  believe  of  me.  But,  my  darling,"  he  added,  hold- 
ing her  off  and  gazing  tenderly  into  her  fair,  young 
face,  "you  are  very  like  what  your  mother  was  when 
I  first  saw  her,  and  it  is  no  wonder  I  was  so  attracted 
toward  you  the  other  night  at  Lady  Dunforth's." 

**Were  you?"  Virgie  asked,  looking  up  eagerly;  "it 


THREADS  GATHEEED  UP. 


is  very  strange,  but  it  almost  seemed  to  me  as  if  I  had 
known  you  in  some  previous  state  of  existence  1  The 
soimd  of  your  voice  moved  me  deeply  and  I  could 
hardly  restrain  my  tears  when  you  gave  me  your  hand 
at  parting." 

*'It  was  the  instinct  of  natural  affection.  Oh !  it  is 
such  delight  to  have  found  both  my  loved  ones ;  and 
yet,'"  he  added,  with  a  twinkle  of  his  eyes,  "I  am 
afraid  I  am  not  destined  to  have  the  exclusive  right 
to  but  one  of  them  for  very  long." 

Virgie  blushed  crimson  and  hid  her  face  on  her 
father's  shoulder  at  this  allusion  to  her  engagement. 

He  raised  it  and  kissed  her  softly  on  her  lips. 

*T  shall  not  be  inconsolable,"  he  said,  smiling,  ''for 
if  I  have  to  resign  something  of  my  claim  upon  you,  I 
shall  thereby  secure  a  son  whom  I  have  always  loved 
as  such.  Rupert  is  a  noble  fellow,  and  he  shall  have 
my  heartiest  blessing,  also,  when  I  give  him  my  daugh- 
ter." 

Virgie  looked  up  archly  at  these  words 

'T  think  that  you  and  Rupert  must  have  a  m.utual 
admiration  for  each  other,"  she  said,  ''for  he  is  very 
fond  of  extolling  his  guardian;  and,  papa,  I  believe — 
I  think  you  are  very  nice,  too." 

Sir  William  laughed.  It  was  very  sweet  to  find 
her  so  fond ;  he  had  feared  that,  never  having  known 
what  it  was  to  have  a  father,  she  would  be  shy  and 
reserved  at  first. 

"There  will  be  mutual  admiratinn  between  you  and 
me  if  you  say  such  pleasant  things,"  he  returned,  with 
another  caress.  ''How  much  you  are  like  your  mother! 
— the  resemblance  grows  upon  me  constantly,'^  he 
added,  gazing  closely  into  her  lovely  face,  "all  save 


234 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


your  eyes;  those,  I  think,  are  very  like  mine,  my 
pet." 

"Yes,  and  mamma  has  always  told  me  that  they  are 
the  dearest  thing  about  me  for  that  reason,"  Virgie 
answered. 

Sir  William  turned  to  gather  his  other  Virgie  into 
his  embrace — she  having  entered  at  that  moment — a 
happy  smile  on  his  lips  at  this  fresh  evidence  of  her 
faithfulness  to  him. 


THKEADS  GATHEEED  UP  235 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THREADS  GATHERED  UP. 

Lord  Norton  was  at  once  informed  of  the  romantic 
incidents  connected  with  his  niece's  early  hfe,  and 
while  he  sympathized  with  the  trials  and  sorrow  to 
which  she  had  been  subjected,  he  also  expressed  his 
gratification  that  all  had  ended  so  well,  and  she  would 
henceforth  occupy  so  proud  a  position. 

He  appeared  to  have  conceived  a  great  afTection  for 
her  during  the  little  time  she  had  been  with  him, 
clinging  to  her  as  if  she  had  been  his  own  daughter, 
while  she  devoted  herself  tirelessly  to  him,  doing 
everything  in  her  power  to  make  his  last  days  peaceful 
and  com.fortable. 

He  lived  only  three  weeks  after  she  went  to  Engle- 
wood,  but  that  was  long  enough  to  see  the  desire  of 
his  heart  accomplished;  for  Sir  William  worked  dili- 
gently upon  his  manuscript,  completing  it  in  about  two 
weeks,  and  thus  the  aged  veteran  had  the  satisfaction 
of  knowing  that  he  would  give  to  the  world  a  valuable 
historical  v/ork  to  perpetuate  his  name  when  the  world 
should  know  him  no  more. 

The  week  following  his  death,  and  after  the  obse- 
quies were  over,  Sir  William  wrote  that  letter  to 
Lady  Linton,  announcing  his  contemplated  marriage 
with  Lord  Norton's  niece. 

He  purposely  withheld  nearly  everything  from  her, 
save  the  bare  facts  that  he  was  about  to  give  Heath- 


236 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


dale  a  mistress,  and  that  she  was  the  relative  and 
heiress  of  his  lordship. 

He  would  have  insisted  upon  having  their  reunion 
solemnized  immediately  if  his  cousin,  Mr.  Heath,  had 
been  considered  wholly  out  of  danger,  while  Virgie 
pleaded  that  it  would  hardly  be  proper,  following  so 
closely  upon  her  uncle's  death. 

She  went  at  once  to  Mrs.  Heath  upon  being  released 
from  her  own  duties  in  the  sick-room,  to  express  her 
sympathy  for  her  in  her  trouble,  and  the  two  women 
instantly  became  the  warmest  friends. 

Mrs.  Heath  at  once  recognized  Virgie  as  the  beauti- 
ful woman  whom  she  had  met  several  years  previous 
at  Niagara.  She  was  deeply  wounded  upon  learning 
how  she  had  been  deceived  regarding  her  marriage, 
and  how  she  had  suffered  when  they  met,  believing 
her  to  be  the  wife  of  the  man  who  had  wooed  and  won 
her. 

"I  loved  you  even  then,"  she  said,  with  starting 
tears,  "though  I  wondered  why  you  appeared  so 
strangely  at  first.  I  wonder  now  how  you  were  en- 
abled to  conduct  yourself  with  so  much  self  posses- 
sion." 

Virgie  and  her  playmate  of  that  olden  time  re- 
newed their  acquaintance  with  evident  pleasure, 
though  the  maiden  could  hardly  realize  that  the  stal- 
wart, but  rather  bashful  young  man,  to  whom  she 
was  introduced  as  the  '^Willie"  of  long  ago,  was  the 
same  with  whom  she  had  enjoyed  such  childish  free- 
dom and  shared  her  toys  in  the  corridor  of  that  great 
hotel  in  America. 

Rupert  was  invited  to  come  to  Englewood  the  week 
following  the  funeral  of  Lord  Norton,  when  he  was 


THEEADS  GATHEKED  UP.  237 


greatly  astonished  to  learn  of  the  strange  sequel  to  the 
story  of  his  guardian's  early  life;  and  yet,  a  dim  sus- 
picion of  something  of  the  kind  had  been  floating  in 
his  mind  ever  since  that  evening  when  Mrs.  Alex- 
ander had  been  so  unnerved  upon  learning  that  Sir 
William  was  his  guardian ;  for  he  had  known  that  there 
had  been  some  deep  sorrow  connected  with  his  past, 
and,  having  learned  Mrs.  Alexander's  story,  it  seemed 
not  unlikely  that  the  two  were  in  some  way  asso- 
ciated. 

On  the  day  that  Virgie  had  encountered  Lady  Lin- 
ton in  Oxford  street  she  had  come  to  London,  Sir 
William  and  Virgie  accompanying  her,  to  spend 
several  days,  having  found  it  necessary  to  make  a 
few  purchases  and  some  changes  in  her  wardrobe  be- 
fore going  to  Heathdale;  so  it  will  be  readily  under- 
stood why  the  happy  woman  was  at  that  time  so  un- 
moved by  her  ladyship's  warnings  and  threats.  Her 
heart  was  too  full  of  joy  and  gratitude  to  allow  of  her 
feeling  anything  save  pity  and  sorrow  for  her  enemy, 
for  she  knew  but  too  well  that  her  evil  deeds  would 
all  recoil  upon  her  own  head. 

It  was  fortunate  for  their  plans,  however,  that  her 
ladyship  did  not  meet  her  brother.  He  had  accom- 
panied his  beloved  to  the  store,  where,  after  fastening 
that  one  lovely  half-blown  Lamarque  rose  in  her  man- 
tle, he  took  leave  of  her  for  awhile;  and  went  to  at- 
tend to  some  business  for  himself;  thus  his  presence 
in  the  city  was  not  even  suspected  by  Lady  Linton. 
As  soon  as  Virgie  could  be  released  by  her  dress- 
maker they  all  returned  once  more  to  Englewood. 

By  the  21st  of  the  month  Mr.  William  Heath  was 
so  far  advanced  toward  recovery  that  his  physician 


238  THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


consented  to  allow  him  to  be  present  at  the  ceremony, 
which  was  to  occur  in  the  church  at  Chester,  and  after- 
ward to  accompany  the  bridal  party  home  to  Heath- 
dale. 

At  ten  in  the  morning  Sir  William  led  the  woman 
of  his  deathless  love  once  more  to  the  altar.  Virgie 
and  Rupert  stood  beside  them  as  they  renewed  the 
vows  of  their  youth,  while  Mr.  and  Mrs.  William 
Heath,  with  their  family,  the  Duke  of  Falmouth  and 
his  household,  were  also  present  to  witness  the  cere- 
mony. 

The  rector  had  been  told  something  of  the  history 
of  the  couple  upon  whom  he  was  to  pronounce  this 
second  nuptial  benediction,  and  his  words  to  them 
were  very  solemn,  very  touching  and  impressive;  and 
then  the  reunited  husband  and  wife  went  out  from  his 
presence  filled  with  a  deep  and  holy  joy  such  as  they 
had  never  hoped  to  realize  again  in  this  world,  while 
their  future  prospects  seemed  but  the  brighter  for  the 
chastening  they  had  endured. 

At  noon  the  whole  party  left  Englewood  for  Heath- 
dale,  followed  by  the  congratulations  and  good  wishes 
of  the  duke  and  his  family,  with  whom  Sir  William 
and  Lady  Heath  had  formed  a  delightful  friendship, 
and  promised  themselves  much  pleasure  in  the  future 
interchange  of  visits. 

Sir  William  and  his  wife  experienced  a  slight  feel- 
ing of  dismay  upon  finding  Heathdale  all  ablaze  with 
light,  and  a  brilliant  reception  in  progress. 

He  had  imagined  that  his  sister,  all  unsuspicious 
of  whom  he  was  to  bring  home,  might  be  there  to  meet 
him.  He  rather  hoped  she  would,  for  he  felt  that  Vir- 
gie deserved  the  triumph  of  coming  to  take  her  posi- 


THEEADS  GATHERED  UP 


239 


tion  there  in  her  presence;  but  he  was  not  quiet  pre- 
pared for  a  formal  reception. 

"I  fear  that  Miriam  has  killed  the  fatted  calf,  and 
made  a  feast  in  view  of  our  coming/'  he  said,  as  they 
drove  up  the  avenue. 

"But,  Will,  it  will  be  hardly  the  thing  for  me  to 
receive  your  friends  in  my  traveling  dress,"  Virgie  re- 
marked, in  a  dubious  tone. 

"How  long  wall  it  take  you  to  make  a  toilet?"  he 
asked. 

"Half  an  hour  will  be  ample  time." 

"Very  well,  then,  w^hile  the  rest  of  the  party  are 
received  at  the  main  entrance,  we  will  drive  around 
to  a  side  door,  slip  up  to  our  rooms,  and  send  w^ord 
that  we  shall  be  happy  to  greet  our  friends  at  half- 
past  eight.  Rupert,  will  you  engineer  the  mater  for 
us?" 

Rupert  gladly  undertook  the  commission,  and  we 
know  with  w^hat  success,  as  well  as  all  that  occurred 
later,  when  Sir  William  appeared  before  the  aston- 
ished company  with  his  wife,  w^hom  they  had  pre- 
viously known  as  Mrs.  Alexander. 

On  the  following  day  Lady  Linton  was  so  ill  that 
she  was  unable  to  leave  her  room.  The  shock  she  had 
received,  and  the  terrible  restraint  to  w^hich  she  had 
afterward  subjected  herself,  was  too  much  for  her 
strength,  and  she  was  utterly  exhausted,  while  her 
proud  spirit  was  crushed  to  the  earth. 

Lillian  v^ras  also  in  a  very  unhappy  state  of  mind, 
although,  to  her  credit  be  it  said,  she  exerted  herself, 
for  her  uncle's  sake,  to  make  everything  as  pleasant 
for  him  and  Lady  Heath  as  she  was  able  to  do  under 
the  circumstances. 


240 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


She  had  spent  the  night  in  serious  thought,  and  had 
wisely  resolved  to  make  the  best  of  what  she  could 
not  help,  and  in  spite  of  the  pain  in  her  heart  over  her 
disappointed  hopes,  she  was  won  by  the  beauty  and 
sweetness  of  Rupert's  betrothed,  and  after  a  day  or 
two  spent  in  each  other's  society,  it  was  safe  to  pre- 
dict that  the  two  young  girls  would  eventually  be- 
come firm  friends. 

On  the  third  day  after  his  return  Sir  William  visited 
his  sister  in  her  own  room,  and  had  a  long  and  serious 
talk  with  her,  deeming  it  wise  to  come  to  some  under- 
standing regarding  their  future  relations  without  fur- 
ther delay. 

She  knew  by  the  expression  on  his  face,  the  moment 
he  entered  her  presence,  that  she  had  nothing  to  hope 
from  him ;  that  he  would  not  spare  her  for  her  part  in 
the  vile  plot  which  had  caused  the  misery  of  his  past 
life. 

He  made  a  brief  but  very  comprehensive  statement 
of  the  whole  matter,  charging  her  with  all  her  treach- 
ery and  falsehood  and  crime,  and  she  was  forced  to 
acknowledge  her  guilt. 

But  when  he  gave  her  the  diary,  portions  of  which 
he  had  read,  and  she  saw  that  it  had  been  examined, 
something  of  her  old  haughty  spirit  and  arrogance 
blazed  forth. 

"Talk  to  me  of  falsehood ;  she  told  me  that  the  seal 
had  never  been  broken,"  she  cried,  with  bitter  scorn, 
a  spot  of  vivid  scarlet  settling  upon  each  sallow  cheek. 

"And  she  told  you  nothing  but  the  truth,  Miriam, 
for  the  seal  was  unbroken  when  she  gave  me  the 
package  to  return  to  you.  My  wife  has  never  read  a 
single  line  that  is  written  there.   No  one  knows  any- 


THKEADS  GATHERED  UP 


241 


thing  of  its  contents  save  you  and  me,"  Sir  William 
replied,  sternly,  and  then  told  her  how  he  had  hap- 
pened to  discover  the  nature  of  its  contents,  after 
v^hich  he  felt  justified  in  reading  enough  more  to  con- 
firm the  suspicions  that  one  line  had  aroused. 

"You  have  proved  yourself  a  very  unwomanly 
woman,  Miriam,"  said  her  brother,  with  cold  gravity. 
"Your  nature,  aside  from  the  affection  which  you  have 
for  your  children,  is  wholly  selfish;  it  has  become 
warped — degraded.  You  have  not  only  hardened  your- 
self against  all  honor  and  sisterly  affection,  but  you 
have  committed  the  most  reprehensible  crimes  to  fur- 
ther your  miserable  schemes. 

"The  wrong  you  did  my  young  wife  years  ago,  the 
insults  you  offered  her,  the  falsehood  and  even  theft 
of  which  you  were  guilty  in  sending  that  hundred 
pounds  to  her,  the  intercepting  of  our  letters,  are 
things  that  I  can  never  overlook." 

"Do  you  dare  to  accuse  me  of  theft?"  interrupted 
Lady  Linton,  bridling.  "You  gave  me  that  hundred 
pounds  for  charitable  purposes." 

"I  gave  you  that  hundred  pounds  to  use  for  the  poor 
girl  who  was  injured  in  that  railway  accident,  and  you 
stole  it  to  add  insult  to  injury.  You  mocked  and 
scorned  a  woman  who  was  your  superior  in  every 
way — in  whose  veins  there  was  as  good  blood  as  in 
your  own,  notwithstanding  your  boasted  preeminence, 
and  I  grow  cold  with  shame  and  horror  every  time  I 
think  of  that  paltry  sum  that  you  sent  her,  when  I 
had  brought  back  thousands  of  her  money  with  me  to 
England.  Mr.  Alexander  left  a  small  fortune  to  his 
daughter  and  I  have  had  it  in  my  possession  ever 
since." 


242 


THKEADS  GATHEKED  UP 


Lady  Linton  looked  up  aghast  at  this  information. 
It  was  the  first  she  had  ever  heard  of  that  matter. 

*'You  begin  to  appreciate  something  of  what  I  have 
suffered,"  he  continued,  as  he  noticed  the  look,  "but 
you  can  never  begin  to  realize  the  misery  which  you 
brought  upon  two  loving  hearts  so  long  separated; 
and  to  think  that  for  more  than  eighteen  years  I  was 
a  father  and  never  once  looked  upon  the  face  of  my 
child.  Miriam,  I  can  never  overlook  it.  You  have  for- 
feited all  respect  from  me,  all  claim  upon  me,  and 
Heathdale  can  no  longer  be  your  home — you  must 
go  elsewhere  to  live,  for  I  will  not  subject  my  wife  to 
the  constant  companionship  of  one  who  has  done  her 
such  irreparable  wrong." 

"William  Heath,  will  you  turn  me  out  from  my 
liome,  where  I  was  born?"  cried  the  miserable  woman, 
almost  fiercely. 

"Your  home?"  he  returned,  severely.  "For  how 
many  years  have  you  cheated  my  dear  ones  out  of 
their  home — out  of  the  love  and  sheltering  care  which 
should  have  been  theirs?  While  my  wife  was  toiling 
to  earn  her  own  support  and  to  make  provision  for 
my  child,  you  were  spending  money  which  rightfully 
belonged  to  them,  with  a  lavish,  almost  reskless,  hand, 
and  rearing  your  children  amid  the  luxury  of  which 
you  had  maliciously  deprived  them.  I  have  family 
pride  enough  to  provide  for  your  needful  support,  for 
I  cannot  see  you  suffer;  so  I  will  fit  up  Fernleigh 
Lodge  for  your  use  while  you  live,  and  settle  upon 
you  an  annuity  of  two  hundred  pounds  " 

"Two  hundred  pounds !"  interrupted  Lady  Linton, 
in  a  tone  of  horror. 

"Yes.    With  economy,  that  will  be  sufficient  for 


THREADS  GATHEEED  UP 


24S 


your  individual  needs,"'  replied  Sir  William,  coldly. 
*'l  will  give  Lillian  as  much  more  until  her  marriage, 
when  I  shall  hope  to  add  something  to  the  sum." 

His  sister's  face  was  almost  convulsed  with  rage 
at  this  announcement.  She  had  never  imagined  any 
descent  in  the  world  so  dreadful  as  this.  She  had 
spent  three  times  the  amount  now  offered  her  in  a 
single  year  upon  her  own  wardrobe,  and  now  she  was 
expected  to  provide  her  whole  support  out  of  two 
hundred  pounds. 

''Do  you  suppose  Lillian  and  I  are  going  to  be  able 
to  live  on  a  paltry  sum  like  that?''  she  demanded,  with 
quivering  lips. 

"My  wife  and  child  lived  on  far  less  than  that  for 
years,  after  you  succeeded  in  ruining  her  faith  in  me," 
was  the  stern  response.  "It  was  no  sum  settled  out- 
right upon  her,  either;  she  had  to  foil  for  it  with  her 
own  hands.  She  was  not  only  the  provider  for  the 
household,  but  nurse,  and  governess,  and  seamistreses 
as  well;  while  your  children  had  their  maids  and 
tutors,  to  say  nothing  of  the  bills  which  I  have  paid 
sewing-girls  and  milliners  for  them.  We  will  reverse 
the  order  for  a  while,  and  the  sum  that  I  have  named 
will  have  to  answer  your  purpose,  unless  your  fertile 
brain  can  invent  some  way  to  increase  it." 

Lady  Linton  groaned  at  this  inflexible  verdict,  v.'hile 
she  writhed  beneath  his  cutting  words  as  if  under  a 
lash. 

She  could  no  longer  shine  in  society,  for  there  would 
be  no  means  for  providing  the  necessary  accessories — 
dresses,  jewels,  laces,  and  the  hundred  other  things 
she  so  dearly  loved  and  had  always  had  for  the  simple 
asking. 


244 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


Her  brilliant  daughter,  too,  who  had  been  so  ad- 
mired in  the  gay  circles  they  had  frequented,  would 
have  to  drop  out  of  her  orbit  now  and  be  forgotten, 
while  there  would  be  no  opportunity  for  her  to  make 
a  distinguished  marriage,  which  had  been  the  acme  of 
lier  mother's  ambition. 

''What  will  the  world  think?  William,  how  can  you 
be  so  cruel?  It  will  blight  all  Lillian's  prospects,"  she 
sobbed. 

"If  by  blighting  Lillian's  prospects  you  mean  that 
Lord  Ernest  Rathburn  will  give  her  the  cold  shoulder, 
it  will  be  a  good  thing  to  have  them  nipped  in  the 
bud,  for  the  fellow  is  devoid  of  both  brains  and  princi- 
ple, and  has  absolutely  nothing  but  his  plethoric  purse 
to  recommend  him  to  anyone.  I  would  much  prefer 
to  have  her  never  marry  than  become  the  wife  of 
such  a  coxcomb.  As  for  your  charge  of  cruelty,  I 
must  say  it  ill  becomes  you  to  make  that  complaint; 
you  have  been  very  extravagant  during  the  last  few 
years,  and  the  study  of  economy  will  not  harm  you  ; 
besides,  it  is  no  more  than  right  that  my  daughter 
should  now  enjoy  the  full  benefit  of  her  inheritance, 
which  your  children  have  so  long  usurped;  not  that 
I  regret  anything  that  I  have  done  for  them,  for  they 
are  both  dear  to  me,  and  I  shall  always  be  deeply  in- 
terested in  their  welfare.  Will  you  go,  to  Fernleigh, 
Miriam?" 

She  would  have  been  glad  to  reject  his  offer  with 
scorn,  but  it  was  Hobson's  choice  with  her — that  or 
nothing. 

Doubtless  Percy  would  have  offered  his  mother  and 
sister  a  home,  when  he  was  settled,  but  his  estate  was 
yielding  him  comparatively  little  as  yet,  and  she  was 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


245 


far  too  proud  to  accept  favors  at  the  hands  of  his  wife. 

"I  suppose  there  is  nothing  else  for  me  to  do,"  she 
wailed,  and  Sir  William  arose  to  leave  her,  uttering 
a  sigh  over  this  new  evidence  of  her  total  selfishness. 

He  lost  no  time  in  fitting  up  the  lodge,  which  was 
a  small  but  cozy  and  convenient  house,  about  five 
miles  from  Heathdale. 

Virgie  very  kindly  interested  herself  in  all  the  ar- 
rangements, for  Lady  Linton  would  not  make  a  sug- 
gestion or  express  a  wish.  When  consulted  upon  any 
point  she  assumed  an  injured  air,  and  remarked  it 
was  of  no  consequence — they  could  do  just  as  they 
saw  fit. 

It  was  really  a  pleasant  home  when  all  completed, 
and  Lillian  thanked  her  uncle  and  Lady  Heath  most 
heartily  for  their  kindness,  and  seemed  quite  inter- 
ested in  the  domestic  details  of  their  small  establish- 
ment. 

In  three  weeks  from  the  time  of  Sir  W^illiam's  re- 
turn, Lady  Linton  took  possession  of  Fernleigh,  a 
sadder  if  not  a  wiser  or  a  better  woman,  and  there 
she  literally  buried  herself,  making  no  visits,  and  deny- 
ing herself  to  all  callers. 

Lillian,  however,  showed  a  much  better  spirit,  and 
tried  to  look  upon  the  bright  side  of  their  condition. 
She  was  growing  very  fond  of  the  new  occupants  ot 
their  old  home,  and  was  often  invited  to  visit  Heath- 
dale,  and  when  Harry  Webster  at  last  came,  for  his 
long-promised  visit  to  Rupert,  she  did  not  fail  to  recog- 
nize the  young  man's  superiorit;y  over  her  old  ad- 
mirer, Lord  Ernest,  while  Mr.  Webster's  admiration 
for  the  brilliant  brunette  was  very  marked  from  the 
first. 


246 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


In  less  than  three  months  it  was  formally  announced 
that  Lillian  Linton  would,  in  the  following  fall, 
through  her  marriage  to  Mr.  Webster,  become  a 
naturalized  citizen  of  America,  the  country  which  she 
had  once  affected  to  so  despise. 

Mr.  Knight  and  his  sister  paid  Lady  Heath  a  visit 
in  March,  and  were  overjoyed  to  find  all  her  sorrow  at 
an  end  and  the  future  looking  so  bright. 

They  were  persuaded  to  remain  until  after  the  mar- 
riage of  Rupert  and  Virgie,  which  was  to  occur  about 
Easter. 

A  grand  wedding  had  been  arranged,  and  after  a 
tour  on  the  Continent  the  young  couple  were  to  reside 
at  Englewood  for  a  portion  of  each  year  and  spend 
the  remainder  with  Sir  William  and  Lady  Heath  at 
their  town  house  in  London. 

Lillian  was  invited  to  officiate  as  chief  bridesmaid, 
assisted  by  the  Misses  Huntington  and  the  Duke  of 
Falmouth's  eldest  daughter,  while,  of  course,  Harry 
Webster  was  to  be  *'best  man." 

The  ceremony  occurred  in  the  fine  old  church  at 
Heathdale,  which  was  crowded  with  the  elite  of  the 
country  for  miles  around,  for  a  report  of  the  beauty 
of  the  heiress  of  Heathdale  had  spread  far  and 
n^ar. 

Sir  William  gave  away  the  bride,  and  the  gift  was 
accompanied  with  his  heartiest  blessing. 

Virgie,  in  her  bridal  robes,  seemed  the  ''fairest  that 
-e^er  the  sun  shone  on,"  and  no  one  looking  into  her 
dark  eyes,  so  full  of  a  calm,  trustful  joy,  or  noting  the 
fond,  proud  smile  upon  her  young  husband^s  face, 
could  doubt  that  these  were 


THREADS  GATHERED  UP 


247 


"Two  souls  in  sweet  accord, 
Each  for  each  caring  and  each  itself  unheard; 
True  to  truth,  nor  needing  proof  nor  proving, 
Sure  to  be  ever  loved  and  ever  loving." 

There  was  a  brilliant  reception  afterward  in  the 
grand  old  mansion  of  which  Sir  William  was  so  justly 
proud,  and  the  servants  were  heard  to  declare  that 
a  finer  wedding  had  never  occurred  within  the  memory 
of  the  oldest  among  them. 

As  Virgie  came  down  stairs,  after  exchanging  her 
bridal  dress  for  a  traveling  suit,  Sir  William  met  her 
in  the  hall  and  drew  her  into  the  library  for  a  last  few 
words.  He  put  a  package  into  her  hands;  and  then, 
drawing  her  to  his  breast,  he  said,  with  great  tender- 
ness: 

"My  darling,  this  is  your  marriage  dowry,  to  be 
used  just  as  you  choose,  and  I  am  sure  of  its  being 
wisely  used;  but  remember  that  you  are  to  come  freely 
to  your  father  if  at  any  time  you  particularly  wish  for 
anything.  All  that  I  have  is  yours.  I  live  but  for  you 
and  my  other  Virgie,  and  Heathdale  is  your  inheri- 
tance." 

[the  end.] 


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By  Order  of  the  King.    By  Victor 
Hugo. 

Byron's  Poems.    By  Lord  Byron. 
Caesar,  Julius,  Life  of.    By  James 

Anthony  Froude. 
Carson,  Kit,  Life  of.    By  Charles 

Burdett. 

Cary's  Poems,  By  Alice  and  Phoebe 
Cary. 

Cast  Up  by  the  Sea,  By  Sir  Samuel, 
Baker. 

Charlemagne  (Charles  the  Great),  Life 
of.    By  Thomas  Hodgkin,  D.  C.  L. 

Charles  Auchester.    By  E.  Berger. 

Character.    By  Samuel  Smiles. 

Charles  O'Malley.  By  Charles 
Lever. 

Chesterfield's  Letters.  By  Lord  Ches- 
terfield. 

Chevalier  de  Maison  Rouge.  By 
Alexandre  Dumas. 

Chicot  the  Jester.  By  Alexandre 
Dumas. 

Children  of  th«  Abbey.    By  Regina 

Maria  Roche. 
Child's    History    of    England.  By 

Charles.  Dickens. 
Christmas    Stories.      By  Charles 

Dickens. 

Cloister  and  the  Hearth.  By  Charles 
Reade. 

Coleridge's  Poems.  By  Samuel  Tay- 
lor Coleridge. 

Columbus,  Christopher,  Life  of.  By 
Washington  Irving. 

Companions  of  Jehu.  By  Alexandre 
Dumas. 

Complete  Angler.  By  Walton  and 
Cotton. 

Conduct  of  Life.  By  Ralph  WALDaj, 
Emerson. 

Confessions  of  an  Opium  Eater.  Bv 
Thomas  de  Quincey. 

Conquest  of  Granada.  By  Washinoc 
ton  Irving. 

Conscript.    By  Erckmann-Chatriai* 

Conspiracy  of  Pontiac,  By  Prancis 
Parkman,  Jr. 

Conspirators.  By  Alexandre  Du- 
mas. 

Consuelo.    By  George  Sand. 
Cook's  Voyages.    By  Captain  Jambs 
Cook. 

Corinne.    By  Madame  de  Stael. 
Countess  de  Chamey.    By  Alexandrs 
Dumas. 

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CTR. 

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SZCOND      SZRIES.)      Bt  ilATTHZVr 

Ayjszzz^. 

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Evelina,    By  Frances  BrR^rBY, 
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FaLyiand  of  Science.    By  AR-iZELLA 

EaUSt,      i'GcETHE.^      TR.i.N-5LATZD  3* 

Pelis  Holt.  "By  GzcRGE  Eliot, 
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ByHeRZBRT  S?3XC3R. 
JZSSIZ  FCTHERGILL. 

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m 

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Hans  of  Iceland.    By  Victor  Hugo. 
Hannibal,  the  Carthaginian,  Life  of. 

By  Thomas  Arnold,  M.  A. 
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Harold.    By  Bulwer-Lytton. 
Harry  Lorrequer.  By  Charles  Lever. 
Heart  of  Midlothian.    By  Sir  Walter 

Scott. 

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YONGE. 

Hemans*  Poems.  By  Mrs.  Felicia 
Hemans. 

Henry  Esmond.  By  Wm.  M.  Thack- 
eray. 

Henry,  Patriek,  Life  of.  By  William 
Wirt. 

Her  Dearest  Foe.  By  Mrs.  Alexan- 
der. 

Hereward.    By  Charles  Kingsley. 
Heriot's  Choice.    By  Rosa  N.  Carey. 
Heroes    and     Hero- Worship.  By 

Thomas  Carlyle, 
Hiawatha,    (with  notes.)    ByH.  W. 

Longfellow. 
Hidden  Hand,  The.  (complete.)  By 

Mrs.  E.  D.  E.  N.  Southworth. 
History  of  a  Crime.     By  Victor 

Hugo. 

History  of  Civilization  in  Europe.  By 

M.  GuizoT. 
Holmes'  Poems.  (  early)  By  Oliver 

Wendell  Holmes. 
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Bryce. 

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J.  Holmes. 
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Nathaniel  Hawthorne. 
Hunchback    of    Notre    Dame.  By 

Victor  Hugo. 
Hypatia.    By  Charles  Kingsley. 
Hyperion.    By  Henry  Wadsworth 

Longfellow. 
Iceland  Fisherman,    By  Pierre  Loti. 
Idle  Thoughts  of  an  Idle  Fellow.  By 

Jerome  K.  Jerome. 
Iliad,    Pope's  Translation. 
Inez.    By  Augusta  J.  Evans. 
Ingelow's  Poems,    By  Jean  Ingelow. 
Initials.    By  the  Baroness  Taut- 
I  phoeus. 

Ilntellectual    Life.    By    Philip  G. 

Hamerton. 
In  the  Counsellor's  House.    By  E. 

Marlitt. 

In  the  Golden  Days.  By  Edna 
Lyall. 

In  the  Heart  of  the  Storm.  By 
Maxwell  Gray. 

In  the  SchiUingscourt  Bv  E.  Mar- 
litt. 

IshmaeL    (complete.)    By  Mrs.  E. 

D.  E.  N.  Southworth. 
It  Is  Never  Too  Late  to  Mend.  By 

Charles  Reads. 


Ivanhoe.    By  Sir  Walter  Scott. 
Jane  Eyre.    Bv  Charlotte  Bronte. 
Jefferson,    Thomas,    Life    of.  By 

Samuel  M.  Schmucker,  LL.D. 
Joan   of  Arc,  Life  of.    By  Jules 

Michelet. 
John  Halifax,  Gentleman.    By  Miss 

Mulock. 

Jones,  John  Paul,  Life  of.  By  James 
Otis. 

Joseph  Balsamo.  By  Alexandre 
Dumas. 

Josephine,  Empress  of  France,  Life  of. 

By  Frederick  A.  Ober. 
Keats*  Poems.    By  John  Keats. 
Kenilworth.    By  Sir  Walter  ScoTit. 
Elidnapped.    By  R.  L.  Stevenson. 
King  Arthur  and  His  Noble  Knights. 

By  Mary  Macleod. 
Knickerbocker's  History  of  New  York. 

By  Washington  Irving. 
Knight  Errant.    By  Edna  Lyall. 
Koran.    Translated    by  George 

Sale. 

Lady  of  the  Lake,  (with  notes.)  By 
Sir  Walter  Scott. 

Lady  with  the  Rubies.  By  E.  Mar- 
litt. 

Lafayette,  Marquis  de,  Life  of.  By 

P.  C.  Headley. 

Lalla  Rookh.  (with  notes.)  By 
Thomas  Moore. 

Lamplighter.  By  Maria  S.  Cum- 
mins. 

Last  Days  of  Pompeii,  By  Bulwer- 
Lytton. 

Last  of  the  Barons.  By  Bulwer- 
Lytton. 

Last  of  the  Mohicans.    By  Jambs 

Fenimore  Cooper. 
Lay   of   the    Last    Minstrel,  (with 

notes.)  By  Sir  Walter  Scott. 
Lee,  General  Robert  E.,  Life  of.  By 

G.  Mercer  Adam. 
Lena  Rivers.    By  Mary  J.  Holmes, 
Life  of  Christ.    By  Frederick  W, 

Farrar. 

Life  of  Jesus.    By  Ernest  Renan. 
Light    of    Asia.    By    Sir  Edwin 
Arnold. 

Light  That  Failed.  By  Rudyard 
Kipling. 

Lincoln,     Abraham,     Life     of.  By 

Henry  Ketcham. 
Lincoln's  Speeches.    Selected  and 

Edited  by  G.  Mercer  Adam. 
Literature  and  Dogma.    By  Matthew 

Arnold. 

Little  Dorrit.  By  Charles  Dickens. 
Little  Minister.  By  James  M.  Barrie. 
Livingstone,    David,    Life    of.  By 

Thomas  Hughes. 
Longfellow's  Poems.     (Early.)  Bt 

Henry  W.  Longfellow. 
Lorna  Doone,    By  R.  D.  Blackmore. 
Louise  de  la  Valliere.    By  Alexandre 

Dumas. 

Love  Me  Little,  Love  Me  Long.  Bv 

Charles  Reads. 


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Lucile.    By  0~2n  Meredith. 
Macaria.    By  Augusta  J.  Evans. 
Macaulay's  Literary  Es-says.    By  T.  B. 

Macaulay. 
Macauiay's  Poems.    By  Thomas  Bab- 

IN'^TOX  Z^IaCAULAY. 

Madame    Theresa.    By  Erckman'N- 

Ckatriax. 
l-Iag^Ie  Miller.    By  Mary  J.  Holmes. 
Magic  Skin.    By  Hoxore  de  Balzac. 
Mahomet,  Life  of.    By  Washington 

Irving. 

Makers  of  Florence.    By  Mrs.  Oli- 

PHANT. 

Makers   of  Venice.    By  Mrs.  Oli- 

PHANT. 

Man  and  Wife.    By  Wilkie  Collins. 

Man  in  the  Iron  Mask.  By  Alexan- 
dre Dumas. 

Marble  Faun.  By  Nathaniel  Haw- 
thorns. 

Marguerite  de  la  Valois.  By  Alex- 
andre Dumas. 

Marian  Grey.    Bv  Mary  J.  Holmes. 

Marius,  The  Epicurian.  By  Walter 
Pater. 

Marmion.    (With  Notes.)    By  Sir 

Walter  Scott. 
Marquis    of    Lossie.    By  George 

Macdonald. 
llartin    Chuzzlewit     By  Charles 

DlCKBftTS. 

Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  Life  of.  By 

P.  C.  Keadley. 
Mary  St.  John.    By  Rosa  N.  Carey. 
Master  of  Ballantrae,  The.    By.  R.  L. 

Stevenson. 
Masterman  Ready.    By  Captain  Mar- 

ryatt. 

Meadow  Brook.  By  Mary  J.  Holmes. 

Meditations  of  Marcus  Aureiius. 
Translated  by  George  Long. 

Memoirs  of  a  Physician.  By  Alexan- 
dre Dumas. 

Merle's  Crusade.    By  Rosa  N.  Carey. 

Micah  Clarke.    By  A.  Conan  Dolye. 

Michael  Strogoff.    Bv  Jules  Verne. 

Jliddlemarch.    By  George  Eliot. 

Midshipman  Easy.    By  Captain  Mar- 

RYATT 

Mldrsd.    By  Mary  J.  Holmes. 
MLUbank.    By  Mary  J.  Holmes. 
Mill  on  the  Floss.    By  George  Eliot. 
Milton's  Poems.    By  John  Milton. 
Min&  Own  People.  BvRudyardKip- 

LING. 

Minister's  Wooing,  The.    By  Harriet 

Beecher  Stov,-s. 
Monastery.    By  Sir  Walter  Scott. 
Moonstone.    By  Wilkie  Collins. 
Moore's  Poems.    By  Thomas  Moore 
Mosses    from   an    Old    Manse,  By 

Nathaniel  Ha-tthorne, 
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Edg'i.r  Allen  Poe. 
Mysterious  Island.    By  Jules  Verne. 
Napoleon  Bonaparte,  Life  of.    By  P. 

C.  liEADLEY. 


NapoJeon  and  His  Marshals.    By  J. 

T.  Headl£y. 
Natural  Law  in  the  Spiritual  World. 

By  Henry  Drummond. 
Narrative  of  Arthur  Gordon  Pym.  Bt 

Ed'Jar  Allan  Poe. 
Nature,  Addresses  and  Lectures.  By 

R.  W.  Emerson. 
Nellie's    Memories.    By    Rosa  N. 

Carey. 

Nelson,  Admiral  Horatio,  Life  of.  By 

Robert  Scuthsy. 
Newcomes.    By  William  M.  Thack-' 

EP.AY. 

Nicholas  Nickleby.    By  Ceas.  Dick.- 

ENS. 

Ninety- Three.    By  Victor  Hugo. 
Not  Like  Other  Girls,    By  Rosa  N. 
Carey. 

Odyssey.    Pope's  Translation. 
Old    Curiosity    Shop.    By  Ch.arlss 
Dickens, 

Old  Mam'selle's  Secret,    By  E.  ^Lkr~ 

LITT. 

Old  Mortality.  By  Sir  Walter 
Scott. 

Old  Myddleton's  Money.    By  Mary 

Cecil  Hay, 
Oliver  Twist.    By  Chas.  Dickens. 
Only  the  Governess.    By  Rosa  N. 

Carey. 

On  the  Heights.  By  Berthold 
Auerbach. 

Oregon  Trail  By  Francis  Park- 
man. 

Origin  of  Species.  By  Charles 
Darv,-in, 

Other  Worlds  than  Ours.    By  Rich- 

.^rd  Proctor. 
Otir  Bessie.    By  Rosa  N.  Carey. 
Our    Mutual    Friend.    By  Charles 

Dickens. 

Outre-Mer.    By  H.  W.  Longfellow. 

Owl's  Nest.    By  E.  Marlitt. 

Page   of   the   Duke   of   Savoy.  By 

Alexandre  Du.mas. 
Pair    of    Blue    Eyes.    By  Thomas 

Hardy. 

Pan  Michael.     By   Henryk  Sien- 

KIEWICZ. 

Past  and  Present.    By  Thos.  Car- 

LYLE. 

Pathfinder.  By  James  Fenimore 
Cooper. 

Paul  and  Virginia.    By  B.   de  St. 

Pierre. 

Pendennis.  History  of.    By  Wm.  M. 

Thackeray. 
Penn,  Wmam,  Life  of.    By  W.  Hep- 

vroRTH  Dixon. 
Pere  Goriot.    By  Honore  de  Balzac, 
Peter,  the  Great,  Life  of.    Bv  John 

Barrow. 

Peveril  of  the  Peak.    By  Sir  Walter 

Scott. 

Phantom  Rickshaw,  The.  By  Rud- 
yard  Kipling. 

Philip  n.  of  Spain.  Life  of.  By  Mar- 
tin A,  S.  Hume. 

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HAM. 

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Pioneers.     By     James  Fenimore 
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Pirate.    By  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills.  By  Rud- 
YARD  Kipling. 

Plato's  Dialogues.  Translated  by  J. 
Wright.  M.  A. 

Pleasures  of  Life.  By  Sir  John 
Lubbock. 

Poe's  Poems.    By  Edgar  A.  Poe. 

Pope's  Poems.    By  Alexander  Pope. 

Prairie.    By  James  F.  Cooper. 

Pride  and  Prejudice.  By  Jane  Aus- 
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Prince  of  the  House  of  David.  By 

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Professor.    By  Charlotte  Bronte. 
Prue  and  L    By  George  William 

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Put  Yourself  in  His  Place.  By  Chas. 
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Putnam,  General  Israel,  Life  of  By 

George  Canning  Hill. 
Oueen  Hortense.    By  Louisa  Muhl- 
bach. 

Queenie's  Whim.    By  Rosa  N.  Carey. 
Queen's   Necklace.    By  Alexandre 
Dumas. 

Quentin  Durward.  By  Sir  Walter 
Scott. 

Rasselas,  History  of.  By  Samuel 
Johnson. 

Redgauntlet.    By  Sir  Walter  Scott. 
Red   Rover.    By   James  Fenimore 
Cooper. 

Regent's  Daughter.    By  Alexandre 

Dumas. 

Reign  of  Law.  By  Duke  op  Argyle. 
Representative     Men.     By  Ralph 

Waldo  Emerson. 
Republic  of  Plato.    Translated  by 

Davies  and  Vaughan. 
Return  of  the  Native.    By  Thomas 

Hardy. 

Reveries  of  a  Bachelor.  By  Ik  Mar- 
vel. 

Reynard  the  Fox.  Edited  by  Joseph 
Jacobs. 

Rienzi.    By  Bulwer-Lytton. 
Richelieu,    Cardinal,    Life    of.  By 

Richard  Lodge. 
Robinson  Crusoe.    By  Daniel  Defoe. 
Rob  Roy.    By  Sir  Walter  Scott. 
Romance  of  Natural  History.    By  P. 

H.  Gosse. 
Romance  of  Two  Worlds.    By  Marie 

CORELLI. 


Romola.    By  George  Eliot.  i 
Rory  O'More.    By  Samuel  Lover. 
Rose  Mather.    By  Mary  J.  Holmes. 
Rossetti's  Poems.    By  Gabriel  Dantb 

Rossettt. 
Royal    Edinburgh.    By    Mrs.  Oli. 

phant. 

Rutledge.    By  Mirian  Coles  Harris. 
Saint  Michael.    By  E.  Werner. 
Samantha  at  Saratoga.    By  Josiah 
Aller's  Wife.    (Marietta  Hol<^ 

LEY.) 

Sartor  Resartus.   By  Thomas  Car* 

LYLE. 

Scarlet  Letter.  By  Nathaniel  Haw-, 
horne. 

Schonberg-Cotta   Family.    By  Mrs. 

Andrew  Charles. 
Schopenhauer's  Essays.  Translated 

BY  T.  B.  Saunders. 
Scottish  Chiefs.    By  Jane  Porter. 
Scott's    Poems.    By    Sir  Walter 

Scott. 

Search    for    Basil    Lyndhxirst.  By 

Rosa  N.  Carey.  , 
Second  Wife.    By  E.  Marlitt.  ' 
Seekers  After  God.    By  F.  W.  Farrar, 
Self-Help.    By  Samuel  Smiles. 
Self-Raised,    (complete.)    By  Mrs, 

E.  D.  E.  N.  Southworth. 
Seneca's  Morals. 

Sense    and    Sensibility.    By  Janb 

Austen. 

Sentimental  Journey.    By  Lawrencb 

Sterne. 

Sesame  and  Lilies.  By  John  Ruskin. 
Shakespeare's   Heroines.    By  Anna. 

Jameson. 

Shelley's  Poems.  By  Percy  Bysshe 
Shelley. 

Shirley.    By  Charlotte  Bronte.  I 
Sign  of  the  Four.    By  A.  Conan  1 
Doyle.  ! 
Silas  Marner.    By  George  Eliot. 
Silence  of  Dean  Maitland.    By  Max- 
well Gray. 
Sir  Gibbie.    By  George  Macdonald 
Sketch  Book.    By  V/ashington  Irv  ■ 
ing. 

Smith,  Captain  John,  Life  of.  By  WJ 
Gilmore  Simms. 

Socrates,  Trial  and  Death  of.  Trans- 
lated BY  F.  J.  Church,  M.  A.  ' 

Soldiers  Three.  By  Rudyard  Kip-' 
ling. 

Springhaven.  By  R.  D.  Blackmore,| 
Spy.  By  James  Fenimore  Cooper. 
Stanley,  Henry  M.,  African  Explorer,' 

Life  of.    By  A.  Montefiore. 
Story  of  an  African  Farm.    By  Olivb! 

Schreiner. 
Story  of  John  G.  Paton.    Told  for 

Young    Folks.    By    Rev.  Jas. 

Paton. 

St.  Ronan's  WelL    By  Sir  Walter 

Scott. 

Study  in  Scarlet  By  A.  Conan 
Doyle. 


BURrS  HOME  LIBRARY.   Cloth.   Gilt  Tops.   Price,  $1.00 


Surgeon's  Daughter.    By  Sir  Yv'alter 

Scott. 

Swinburne's  Poems.    Bv  A.  C.  SvriN- 

BURX3. 

Swiss   Family  Robinson.    By  Jeax 

RrDOLPH  Wyss. 
Taking  the  Bastile.    By  Alexandre 

Dumas. 

Tale    of    Two    Cities.    By  Chas. 

DiCKZXS. 

Tales  from  Shakespeare.    By  Chas. 

AXD  3,L^RY  Lamb. 
Tales  of  a  Traveller,    Br  TTashxn-gton 

Irvixg. 

Talisman.    By  Sir  Walter  Scott. 
Tanglewood   Tales.    By  Nathaniel 

Hatvthorn-e. 
Tempest  and  Sunshine.    By  Ma'R-Y  J. 

Holmes. 

Ten  I^ights  in  a  Bar  Room,    By  T.  S. 

Arthur. 

Tennyson's  Poems.    By  Alfred  Ten- 
nyson-. 

Ten   Years  Later.    By  Alexander 
Dv^^AS. 

Terrible    Temptation,    By  Charles 

RSADE. 

Thaddeus    of    "Warsaw.    By  Jane 

Porter. 
Thebna.    By  Marie  Corelli. 
Thirty  Years'  War.    By  Frederick 

Schiller. 
Thousand   Miles   Up   the   Nile.  By 

Amelia  B.  Edvtards. 
Three   Guardsmen.    By  Alexandre 

Dumas. 

Three  Men  in  a  Boat,    By  Jerome  K. 

Jerome. 
Thrift.    By  Samuel  Smiles. 
Throne  of  David,    By  Rev.  J.  H. 

Ingraham. 
Toilers  of  the  Sea,    By  Victor  Hugo 
Tom  Brown  at  Oxford.    By  Thomas 

Hughes. 

Tom     Brown's     School     Days.  By 

Thos.  Hughes. 
Tom  Burke  of  "Ours."    By  Charles 
Lever. 

Tour  of  the  World  in  Eighty  Days. 

By  Jules  Verne. 
Treasure  Island.    By  Robert  Louis 

Stevenson. 
Twenty  Thousand  Leagues  Under  the 

Sea.    By  Jules  Verne. 
Twenty  Years  After.    By  Alexandre 

Dumas. 

Twice  Told  Tales,    By  Nathaniel 

Hawthorne. 
Two  Admirals.    By  James  Fenimore 

Cooper. 

Two  Dianas.  By  Alexandre  Dumas. 
-Two  Years  Before  the  Mast    By  R.  H. 

Dana,  Jr. 
Uarda.    By  George  Ebers. 
Uncle  Max.    By  Rosa  X.  Carey. 
Uncle    Tom's   Cabin,    By  Harriet 

Bescher  Stowe. 
Under  Two  Flags,    By  "OtnoA." 


Utopia,    By  Sir  Thomas  More. 

Vanity  Fair.    By  Wm.  M.  Thackeray. 

Vendetta.    By  >L\rib  Corelli. 

Vespucius,  Americu^,  Life  and  Voyages, 
By  C.  Edvja7.ds  Lester. 

\'icar  of  Wakefield.  By  Oliver 
Goldsmith, 

Vicomte  de  Bragelonne.  By  Alex* 
andf.e  Dumas. 

Views  A-Foot,    By  Bayard  Taylor, 

Villette.    By  Charlotte  Bronte. 

Virginians.    By  Wm.  M.  TkackeraYc 

Walden.    By  Henry  D.  Thoreau. 

Washington,  George,  Life  of.  Bt 
Jared  Spap.ks. 

Washington  and  His  Generals.  By  J. 
T.  Headley. 

Water  Babies.  By  Charles  Kings- 
ley. 

Water    Witch,    By    James  Feni- 

MORE  Cooper. 
Waverly.    Bv  Sir  Walter  Scott. 
Webster,  Daniel,  Life  of.    By  Samuei, 

M.  SCH.MUCSHR,  LL.D. 

Webster's      Speeches.  (Selected.) 

By  Daniel  Webster. 
Wee  Wine.    By  Rosa  N.  Carey. 
Westward  Ho!    By  Charles  Kings- 

LEY. 

We  Two.    By  Edna  Lyall. 

■'?»Tiat's   Mine's   Mine.    By  Georgs 

Macdonald. 
Wnen   a   Man's   Single.    By   J.  :,L 

Harris. 

White    Company.    By    A,  Cox.^ 

Doyle. 

Whites  and  the  Blues.  By  Alex- 
andre Dumas. 

Whitder's  Poems,  (early.)  By  John- 
G.    \'.  hittier. 

Wide,  Wide  World,  By  Susan  War- 
ner. 

William,  the  Conqueror,  Life  of.  By 
i.DV,-ARD  A.  Freeman,  LL.D. 

William,  the  _ Silent,  Life  of.  By 
Frederick  Harrison. 

Willy  Reilly.  By  William  Carle- 
ton. 

Window  in  Thrums.  By  J.  M.  Barrib 
Wing  and  Wing.    By  James  Feni- 

MORE  Cooper, 
Wolsey,  Cardinal,  Life  of.    By  Man, 

DELL  CrEIGHTON. 

Woman  in  White,  By  Wllkie  Col- 
lins. 

Won  by  Waiting.    By  Edna  Lyall. 
Wonder    Book.       For    Bots  ano 
Girls.      By     Nathaniel  Haw. 

THORNE. 

Woodstock,    By  Sir  Walter  Scott. 
Wooed  and  Married,    By  Rosa  N. 
Carey. 

Wooing  O't    By  Mrs,  Alexander. 
Wordsworth's  Poems,    By  Willla'u 

WORDSVrORTH. 

Wormwood,    Bv  Marie  Corelli. 
Wreck  of  the  Grosvenor.    By  W. 
Cl.vrk.  Russbll. 


II 


